


Isolated

by cheesyficwriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28811784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesyficwriter/pseuds/cheesyficwriter
Summary: Hermione comes into direct contact with a toxic substance in Professor Slughorn's office and unknowingly exposes Ron, forcing them both into self-isolation where they can confront their feelings once and for all.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 289
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Hello again, all! I'm back at it with another multi-chapter fic. I've had this plot bunny roaming around for quite awhile and I have a large portion of this story completely finished already, so I am excited to finally share it with you all! As always, reads and reviews are much appreciated! Please enjoy :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter One**

* * *

_ January 1997 _

Hermione Granger stepped into Professor Slughorn’s office early on a Sunday morning, eagerly prepared to assist with sorting vials of various potions needed for the upcoming term. She had been completely enthralled by Slughorn’s 6th year potions class so far, and she hoped that by volunteering she would be able to get more hands-on experience with the handling and care of previously brewed concoctions.

Aside from the one, singular disastrous attempt to brew the Draught of Living Death last term, she had been rather successful in potions this year so far and was curious to learn more. 

“Miss Granger, do come in!” Slughorn waved her into his office.

Hermione greeted him enthusiastically. “Good morning, professor! How may I assist you today?”

Slughorn chuckled. “Ah, Granger, punctual and prepared as ever! You may start by helping me sort through this closet over here, come.” Slughorn led Hermione to a large, wooden closet in the back of the room and her curiosity was growing as to what she would find inside. 

Slughorn opened the closet with a flick of his wand and toppled forward to grasp onto a single vial right before it threatened to fall haphazardly out of the closet and spill onto the floor. 

The closet was filled to the brim with glass vials of various sizes and shapes. Each individual bottle held a liquid of an assorted array of colors. Hermione stared at the potions wondrously. 

“Oops, might be a bit full, I’m afraid. I don’t suppose you have any tips for reorganizing this mess, do ya?” Slughorn chortled. 

Hermione resisted the opportunity to roll her eyes. Although she thought that Slughorn was brilliant, he had a tendency to be quite scatter-brained. Judging by the state of his entire office, he really could do with a good decluttering. 

“It might be beneficial to sort through these vials by color and label each one more clearly.” Hermione reached inside the cabinet to pick up a select vial that held a deep purple liquid inside. “For example, this vial doesn’t even have a label on it, preventing someone from knowing what it is.”

“Well, that’s the Draught of Peace!” Slughorn responded matter-of-factly. 

“Precisely. You know what it is Professor, but others may not. And without a clear, definitive label, the wrong potion may fall into unintended hands,” Hermione reasoned.

Slughorn considered her suggestion for a moment. “I suppose you’re right, as always Miss Granger. Yes, I will trust you completely to sort through this mess however you see fit.” Slughorn was already walking back towards his desk. 

Hermione nodded in satisfaction. “I will start with the vials that are already clearly marked and set aside the unknowns for you to take a look at later.”

Hermione spent close to an hour transferring bottles out of the cabinet and placing them back inside, this time organized in rows alphabetically, based on the name listed on the vial. She was entirely intrigued by the contents of some of the potion names she read - Invisibility, Wolfsbane, Veritaserum, Elixir of Life...all potions that she had already read and studied in class, but she had never actually seen many of them up close. Her hand then brushed the cork on top of a particularly pink bottle that she knew held Amortentia.  _ Love potion. _

Hermione blushed scarlet as she thought back to the whiff of the potion she received during a class late last fall, more particularly as she recalled what exactly or rather  _ who  _ exactly she smelled.

Hermione shook her head as she contemplated her rather tumultuous relationship with Ron Weasley. It was hard enough to admit to herself that she fancied her best friend, but his brief coupling with Lavender Brown last fall had nearly thrown her off a ledge. To her surprise, Ron decided not to pursue a relationship with Lavender beyond a heated snog immediately following a Quidditch match and all had seemingly returned back to normal by Christmas. Still, her relationship with Ron had been quite rocky the past few months. He had snapped at her incessantly for no reason in the common room and she retorted by sending a flock of birds at his head after she witnessed him snogging Lavender. 

Apart from helping Slughorn out with reorganizing his office on the weekends, Hermione was an active participant in his notorious “Slug Club” events and even attended a Christmas party hosted by him in mid-December. Hermione had originally invited Ron to join her for the party, intended as a date, however the Lavender fiasco happened in the midst of it all, and Ron and Hermione stopped speaking to each other until the train arrived into King’s Cross Station on Christmas break. 

Hermione recalled her conversation with Ron just before she stepped off of the train to go find her waiting parents. He had grabbed a hold of her wrist gently and murmured a simple “I’m sorry.” With a final promise to write over the Christmas break, Hermione left and they returned to Hogwarts two weeks later acting as if nothing had happened. They were once again Ron and Hermione.

Although Hermione was grateful that she was back on speaking terms with her best friend, it didn’t diminish the feelings she still harbored for him and one glance at the bottle of pink potion in her hands only reminded her of that. 

With a heavy sigh, Hermione set the vial on the shelf in the appropriate location, just before glancing up at the clock on the wall to check the time.  _ 10:45 am.  _ She had been hard at work in Slughorn’s office for almost two hours and now she was due to meet Ron in the library for studying in fifteen minutes. How she had managed to convince him to meet with her, in the library of all places and on the weekend, was beyond her. But she supposed it had something to do with him still trying to make it up to her from their missed date last semester and stay in her good graces. She wasn’t going to complain. 

“Professor, I’m sorry, but I need to be going now. I’m due to study with a friend,” Hermione called over to Slughorn, who raised his head from his desk and shuffled his papers.

“Oh sure, sure, let me just help you return the last few vials to the closet before you go.” He hurried over to where Hermione was standing and together they began transferring vials one by one. Although Hermione had been incredibly focused and careful when handling the vials all morning long, her hands slipped when reaching for a vial holding a deep green liquid and she watched as it crashed to the floor, breaking apart instantly, shards of glass flying and green liquid seeping out everywhere. 

“Oh dear!” Slughorn shouted, pulling his now green-splattered shoes away from the mess on the floor. 

Hermione hissed as she turned the palm of her hand over to reveal a deep red gash, cut by a shard of glass. There was a throbbing, burning sensation as the blood started to trickle from the cut and she quickly pressed her other hand over the wound. 

“Here, here,” Slughorn pressed a clean handkerchief into her hand and Hermione held it firmly on the open cut in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “Head straight to Madame Pomfrey, right away, so she can heal up that cut! I’ll clean this up, don’t you worry.”

Hermione couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Professor? What exactly was in that bottle? It wasn’t marked?” And it wasn’t a potion color she recognized. 

Slughorn looked down at the discarded bottle grimly. “You know, I’m not exactly sure, but you shouldn’t worry my dear. Just get yourself to the hospital wing, yeah?”

Hermione was rather confused by his hasty reply, but nonetheless followed his instructions and exited the room quietly. 

After leaving Slughorn’s office, she noted the time on the clock and she didn’t want Ron to start worrying when she didn’t show. Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket and muttered a quick spell that instantly stopped the bleeding and cleaned any dry blood off of her hand. The wound was still visible, and she would have Madame Pomfrey take a look, but she decided that it could wait until after she met with Ron. 

* * *

Hermione retrieved her books from her dormitory and quickly made her way to the school library. She walked through the double doors and immediately spotted Ron at a table far in the back, corner section of the library. She observed, quite annoyingly, that he had not opened his books on the table but had instead opted to flip through a Quidditch magazine while he waited for her.  _ Boys. _

Ron looked up from his magazine as she approached and offered her a tentative smile. “And here I thought I was going to be the late one!” 

Hermione huffed as she took a seat directly across from him at the table. “I’ll have you know, Ronald, that I was helping Professor Slughorn organize potions for the start of term. Just lost track of time a little, that’s all.”

“Right,” Ron muttered and he closed his magazine. “So, let’s do this, then.” He sounded completely bored already and she glared at him. 

“Nice to see you too, Ron.”

Ron scoffed. “You know that’s not what I meant. You know that I would hang out with you practically anywhere, but you’re lucky that I am  _ here,  _ that’s all I gotta say. Why couldn’t we have studied in the common room?”

Hermione sighed inwardly at Ron’s whining. “ _ Because _ , the common room is incredibly noisy and you’re more likely to focus on actually doing your work when you’re not constantly bothered by quidditch talk and chess matches!”

Ron raised his arms in surrender. “Fine, fine.” He flipped open his History of Magic book. “So you wanna help me revise this essay?”

“Sure,” Hermione nodded. “Where are your notes from class?”

Ron retrieved a crinkled paper from his book and handed it to Hermione, who wrinkled her nose. “Ron, your handwriting really is…”

“Awful, yeah yeah, I know,” Ron snapped, “Now can you help me or what?”

“I suppose,” Hermione relented. She leaned over the table and pointed to an underlined section in his book. “So this is where we left off in class…”

“Wait - what happened to your hand?” Ron interrupted and he grabbed her injured hand without waiting for her to answer to take a closer look.

Hermione bit her lip and averted her attention to the makeshift bandage she had currently on her hand to hide the cut, formed out of the white handkerchief that was twisted and tied around her entire right hand. “It’s nothing Ron, I just cut it on a piece of glass, that’s all.”

“Really?” His eyebrows creased together with concern. “He lifted the bandage slightly to take a peek at the gash underneath. “It looks pretty deep, did you stop by to see Madame Pomfrey?”

Hermione snatched her hand out of Ron’s. “I’ll go as soon as we leave here, don’t worry.”

“Or we could go now,” Ron suggested, already standing up from the table, “Come on, I’ll go with you. You don’t want that cut getting infected.”

Hermione’s heart swelled as she witnessed Ron fuss over a simple cut on her hand. He always had such great protective instincts and he was almost always the first one to notice when something was off with her. In this moment though, she figured that it only partially had to do with concern for her and also simply that he was using it as a tactic to get out of revising. 

“No, no way, you are not getting out of studying!” Hermione jabbed a finger at him. 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Hermione, we can come back and study after all you want, okay? Let’s just get you checked out first.”

Hermione considered his words and eventually resigned to agreeing. “Well...alright. But we  _ are  _ coming back to study!” She stood and gathered her books, prepared to turn towards the door when it suddenly banged open and Professor McGonagall appeared. 

McGonagall scanned the room until her eyes fell on Ron and Hermione and shuffled towards them rapidly. “Ah, Miss Granger, I’ve been looking for you. Professor Slughorn said I may find you here.”

“Is everything alright, professor?” Hermione questioned worriedly. She exchanged a brief glance with Ron, who too looked just as confused. 

McGonagall’s lips formed a thin line. “I’m afraid I will need you to come with me, Miss Granger. Immediately.”

“Where are you taking her?” Ron asked instantly. 

“That is confidential for now, Mr. Weasley. I’m sorry. Miss Granger, we must hurry. Please, gather your belongings and follow me, quickly now.” McGonagall spun on her heel and hastily retreated towards the library exit. 

Hermione threw an apologetic look towards Ron and reached out to squeeze his hand once in reassurance, before she scurried out the room, nearly tripping over her own feet in order to keep up with the professor. 

* * *

“Professor, can you tell me where we are going?” Hermione inquired breathlessly as she followed her down the corridor. 

“Right this way,” McGonagall ushered Hermione into the hospital wing. Hermione briefly wondered if she had found out about her potion mishap earlier this morning and was checking to make sure she had been properly taken care of. However, as McGonagall continued past the rows and rows of hospital beds and opened a hidden door at the back of the room, Hermione wasn’t quite sure of her theory anymore. 

“In here, Miss Granger, and please do not touch anyone or anything.” Hermione’s stomach dropped as she became increasingly worried as to the matter of this particular request.  _ Don’t touch anything? _

Hermione entered the room and noticed Madame Pomfrey standing in the corner donning a rather surly expression on her face. “What’s this about?” Hermione questioned once more. She took in the contents of the room and was startled to find a clear, glass box positioned in the middle of the darkened room. It hosted a camp bed with some blankets, but was otherwise completely bare. 

“Miss Granger, it has come to my attention that earlier this morning you were involved in a laboratory accident in Professor Slughorn’s office, correct?” McGonagall asked. 

Hermione nodded slowly. 

McGonagall frowned. “And you chose not to come straight to the hospital wing to get your hand checked as instructed by Professor Slughorn. Why is that?”

_ Busted.  _ Hermione started to shake. “I’m-I’m sorry professor. You see, I was late to meet Ron in the library and I was able to attend to my hand on my own. I promise, I was actually on my way to the hospital wing when you came in. It was Ron’s idea, actually, to come earlier.”

“Miss Granger, the contents of the vial that spilled and cut your hand included a very,  _ very _ rare potion,” McGonagall continued. It seemed as if she no longer cared as to why Hermione didn’t come to the hospital wing and had already moved on as to what she was doing here now. “That particular potion was discovered to be Imminisus Mortuous. It’s a potion that hasn’t been used for centuries and quite frankly we are not sure how it ended up on school grounds. But it is considered extremely dangerous. The exact side effects of exposure to this particular substance is relatively unknown so we are currently consulting with healers over at St. Mungo’s. Professor Slughorn has already been transferred there to be monitored. Since you were also in direct contact with the substance, we ask that you reside in these chambers until we have confirmed exactly what we are dealing with. Strictly a precaution.”

Hermione gulped as she stared up at the large glass case. “I have to stay in that?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. We will be quarantining you until we can be certain that other students are not at risk of being exposed to the same chemical.”

“May I ask why I am not required to go to St. Mungo’s as Professor Slughorn was?”

“Professor Slughorn was able to apparate himself directly to the hospital. Since you do not yet have your license to do so, and we are currently hesitant for you to be in direct contact with anyone else, we think it is best that you remain at the school until we receive more information.”

Hermione nodded slowly as she processed McGonagall words. "Professor, how much danger am I in?" 

McGonagall remained very neutral. "I'm afraid that question will need to be directed towards the healer who will hopefully be arriving from St. Mungo's shortly." With a tap of her wand, the glass case shuddered open, allowing space for Hermione to walk inside. 

"Miss Granger, if you will…" McGonagall requested, her arm waving in the direction of the chamber.

Hermione took a deep breath before hesitantly stepping inside the barrier. She gasped as the entry way closed immediately and she was effectively trapped inside the bubble. 

“Now, Madame Pomfrey will need to ask you some questions about your hand and I will see to the arrival of the healer from St. Mungo’s. I shall be back shortly,” With one, final nod, McGonagall disappeared from the room. 

  
Hermione met the concerned gaze of Madame Pomfrey and her insides twisted.  _ Two weeks in self-confinement.  _ She thought briefly of Ron and what he must be thinking.  _ What is going to happen to me? _


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. 
> 
> A/N: Hey everyone! Happy Wednesday. I'm excited to get rolling with this new story. This chapter is relatively short, but my goal is to make most of the chapters following this one a bit longer. Also, something I meant to mention in the first chapter (although you may have noticed while reading) is that, although this story takes place in January of sixth year, Ron and Lavender are not dating in this fic (they only kissed after his quidditch match, which Hermione still saw). For the sake of what I want to accomplish during this story, that's how I'm writing it :)
> 
> Side note: If any of you read my other fic, Lost in Translation, please go check out the moodboard made for the story by the lovely Folk_melody on her page. It's absolutely beautiful! Thanks so much!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

After five minutes, alone in an unfamiliar room and trapped inside of a glass box, had passed by in excruciating slowness, McGonagall had returned with a short and stout witch following behind her. 

"Miss Granger, my name is Isabelle Stein, I am a lead healer over at St. Mungo's, specializing in diagnosis and treatment for potions and plant poisonings." 

_Treatment for potions? Am I going to need treatment?_ Hermione's mind was racing with a slew of unanswered questions. 

"I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind," Healer Stein said and waited for Hermione's slow nod before continuing, "Now, can you tell me roughly what time it was when the accident occurred and you were exposed to the potion?" 

Hermione thought briefly. "Well, I want to say it was approximately ten minutes shy of eleven o'clock. I had just looked at the time and was starting to clean up before meeting a friend in the library."

Healer Stein hummed lightly as she jotted down some notes on a piece of parchment. "Do you know if any of the potion liquid seeped into your cut upon penetration?"

"I'm-I'm not sure," Hermione answered in a daze. _What would be the consequences if it did?_ "I don't think so, but there were definitely liquid spots visible on the shard of glass that cut me, if I remember correctly."

Healer Stein didn't appear to react to her words, but continued to write down everything Hermione was saying. "Thank you for that clarification, Miss Granger. Now, I'm going to perform a short spell to get a look at your vitals. Come close to the glass for me."

Hermione did as the healer instructed and was intrigued as the spell was able to be cast through the barrier. A beam of red light ignited from the tip of the healer’s wand and slowly scanned Hermione’s profile, top to bottom. 

"Hmm…" The healer paused, taking a look at the information she was able to retrieve. "Everything looks perfectly normal at this time. That is good. No levels are currently elevated. Miss Granger, I will be returning each morning to check your vitals again to make sure nothing changes over the course of the next two weeks."

Hermione's face fell. "You mean, I still have to stay in here, despite normal testing?”

“Since the effects from this particular potion are...unclear...at this time, we simply cannot release you until we are for certain that you or others are not at risk,” Healer Stein offered Hermione a sympathetic look, “I do apologize, Miss Granger. I assure you that we will do everything we can to get you released as quickly as possible. But, your safety is our first priority.”

She understood. _Of course_ she understood. Hermione would never want to be riddled with the guilt if she knew that she was unknowingly exposing any of her fellow teachers or classmates due to her slippery fingers. It didn’t stop the feeling of dread that bubbled through her stomach as she thought about being confined to a small space for an undetermined amount of time. 

"I am going to recommend that Miss Granger quarantine for a minimum of two weeks. After which time, we can re-assess and as long as she does not exhibit any symptoms or side effects to any medication, she will be free to be released,” Healer Stein concluded. 

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and prepared a quick protest. "Two weeks?!? But professor, my classes…"

McGonagall held up a hand. "We will see to it that you receive all of your books and lessons for each day that you are out. I assure you that you will not fall behind and we will of course be accommodating to your unique situation." 

The healer leaned over to her professor to whisper something quietly in her ear. Hermione leaned closer to the glass, itching to know what words were being exchanged. McGonagall’s face hardened and she nodded at the healer’s words before turning back to Hermione. 

"Miss Granger, this question is very important and I want you to _really_ think, after you left the lab where did you go?"

"I-I just went straight to the library to study...with Ron," Hermione stumbled, adding Ron's name nervously. 

With pursed lips, Professor McGonagall continued, "Pardon me, but I need you to answer truthfully on this next question. Did you happen to have any...physical contact with Mr. Weasley during that time?"

Hermione blushed red, "I-I mean…"

" _Any_ form of contact - did you hug him, did your shoulders brush together... _anything_?" Professor persisted. 

Hermione's heart dropped. " _Yes._ I-I touched his hand.” She recalled Ron grabbing her hand to inspect the open wound. 

McGonagall’s lips formed a thin line. "Madame Pomfrey, please stay here with Miss Granger. I need to go find Mr. Weasley at once." 

"Professor!" Hermione called before she could pace out of the room. "What's wrong? Is Ron going to be okay?"

McGonagall looked towards Hermione with a sad expression. "I'm afraid the chemical you were exposed to is spread through touch. I believe Mr. Weasley may also now be infected. I need to go find him, quickly, before this starts to spread through the whole school." And with a whip of her robes, she was gone. 

* * *

Ron burst into the common room just shortly after Hermione was taken away by Professor McGonagall, eyes searching the room desperately for his other best friend. 

" _Harry!"_ He called out urgently, spotting him over in the corner near the fireplace, working quietly on his homework. Harry's head shot up, startled by the fear evident in Ron's tone of voice.

"Ron? What are you doing back? I thought you and Hermione were studying together?" He inquired as Ron rushed over to him.

Ron struggled to catch his breath, clearly having just jogged his way from the library to the portrait hole as fast as he could. "I _was._ Until McGonagall barged in and took her away. Said it was imperative that she get Hermione alone immediately."

"That doesn't make any sense…" Harry murmured, gazing away thoughtfully. 

"Harry," Ron started again, "Hermione had a cut on her hand. She said she got it from a piece of glass on a potion bottle she was handling in Slughorn's office. You don't think…"

"-that she could've been infected with something? It's very plausible." Harry finished Ron's sentence without missing a beat, already catching on to his line of thinking. 

Ron couldn't get Hermione's terrified expression out of his mind. He was more than concerned for her. He had a sinking feeling that Hermione knew more about the situation than she was able to let on with McGonagall present. While it was entirely possible that she was swept away for a reason completely separate from the incident with her hand, he wasn't convinced that there _could_ be another reasonable explanation that explained the urgency. 

Harry started to gather up his books. "Maybe Professor Dumbledore or Professor Slughorn know something. Let's go check it out." 

Ron nodded in agreement, but before they could make any moves, a sharp voice sounded from behind them.

"Mr. Weasley! Stop right there!" Ron whirled around to find Professor McGonagall bustling towards him. 

"Professor, where is Hermione? Is she okay?" He questioned anxiously. 

Ignoring his inquiries, she continued, "I am going to need you to come with me. And _please..._ I need to know. Have you had any physical contact with _anyone_ since leaving Miss Granger?" 

Ron immediately looked over to Harry who was giving him a curious look. _Since leaving Hermione?_

Shaking his head, "No, I don't believe so. I mean, I've touched doors and stuff but not...people."

"Not Mr. Potter here? You didn't bump into anyone?" She continued throwing questions at him, eyes searching for an urgent response.

"No professor," Ron confirmed confidently. 

Professor McGonagall let out a sigh that seemed to be relief. "Very well. I apologize Mr. Weasley, but I am going to need you to come with me. Immediately." 

"What's going on? Where's Hermione?" Harry interjected. 

"I'm afraid I will have to update you later Mr. Potter. Right now it is imperative that I get Mr. Weasley isolated as soon as possible."

"Isolated?" Ron asked incredulously, irritated at the lack of response to his questions. _Where was Hermione?!?_

"Yes, now come quickly please. And whatever you do, do _not_ touch anything."

* * *

Hermione sat in the corner of her isolation pod, drumming her fingers nervously on her thigh. The doors opened from the infirmary suddenly and Hermione snapped her head over to where McGonagall was walking in followed by a very disgruntled and confused Ron.

“ _Hermione!_ ” He called out the moment he saw her. Ron’s eyes traveled over the clear barrier that divided the two of them and his mouth fell open. “What is this, what is going on?” Ron demanded as he turned towards the professor. 

“Ron…” Hermione whispered as she moved closer to the divider.

“Mr. Weasley, I know you’ve had some questions. I’d like to address those now with Miss Granger,” McGonagall began, “Sometime earlier today, Miss Granger was working with Professor Slughorn in his laboratory, helping him sort through potions to prepare for the start of term. During that time, Hermione was exposed to a rather rare and dangerous toxin…”

Ron’s heart sank as soon as he heard the word _dangerous._ He kept his gaze firmly on Hermione as she oddly avoided his eyes. 

“We are still working to learn the specifics of this toxic substance, but for now what we _do_ know is that it is contagious. Remarkably, the chemical is not spread through air, which would have undoubtedly infected quite a few people at this point, but rather it is spread through touch.”

“Touch?” Ron questioned, watching Hermione’s face grow red. He wasn’t quite sure what he had to do with…

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, because you had physical contact with Miss Granger earlier today after her exposure, I’m afraid that we will need to monitor you as well.”

It finally dawned on him. A flashback ran through his mind of him reaching for Hermione’s hand while they were studying in the library together. Hermione met his eyes now and they stared at each other for a beat.

McGonagall cleared her through right before she waved her wand and charmed a second clear barrier right next to Hermione’s. “I have spoken with Professor Dumbledore, and he has agreed that for now it would be best for you both to spend your isolation together in the same room. Privacy chambers within your barriers will be produced of course, for sleeping, changing clothes, and using the necessary facilities. Do either of you have any objections to this?”

“No.” “No.” They both responded immediately. 

McGonagall shifted her eyes between the two of them skeptically. “Very well, then. Mr. Weasley…” She gestured him towards the barrier and he hesitantly walked inside. “I will be back shortly with Madame Pomfrey, who will arrange the necessary privacy units. Healer Stein will also return soon to check your vitals, Mr. Weasley. Do either of you need anything that requires immediate attention?”

Satisfied when they both shook their heads, she nodded at them once, before gliding out the door and leaving them alone.

Hermione tiredly massaged her temple, shortly before pressing her back against the cold, hard glass and letting her body slide to the ground, her knees curled up close to her chest. She was against the glass farthest away from Ron’s pod. Ron mimicked her movements and sat on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees as his foot bounced anxiously up and down. They sat in an awkward silence for several minutes, both taking the time to process what was happening. 

“Hey,” Ron called out softly, surprising Hermione out of her thoughts. “You okay?”

Hermione smiled back in exhaustion. “As okay as I can be, I suppose. Better now, that I'm not alone." Ron grunted at her statement and Hermione briefly wondered how he was feeling about being stuck in isolation with her. 

“How are _you?”_

Ron exhaled loudly and looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh you know, just quarantined with my best friend, pretty typical for a Sunday.” Hermione wanted to laugh at Ron’s attempt to provide comedic relief, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “Couldn’t have a quiet year at Hogwarts, could we?”

She let a giggle escape then. “Of course not. It’s pretty much normal at this point for at least one of us to run into a life-threatening situation on a yearly basis.” As much as Hermione was dreading the time she would have to spend in self-isolation, it was looking a little brighter with Ron by her side. 

"Just two weeks. I've been in the hospital wing for longer...remember Millicent Bulstrode's cat?" 

Ron snorted. "O'course."

"Or the time I was petrified.” She winced as she recalled the horror of waking up after months of missing school. 

"I remember,” Ron acknowledged softly, “Longest few months of my life." Hermione gazed tenderly over at Ron, who was now looking down, refusing to meet her eyes. 

"I guess I'm lucky that I had no real sense of time in that state,” Hermione continued, sighing as she let her fall back against the glass. 

"I did." The crinkle in Ron’s eyebrows grew more prominent. He broke out of his trance and finally made eye contact with her. "You're certain you're feeling alright?" 

"I am,” she reassured, watching as he relaxed his stiff shoulders ever so slightly. 

"So...just you and me, Granger.” He sent Hermione a lop-sided grin that made her stomach do backflips. 

_You and me, Granger._


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Happy Saturday, everyone! Not much to say here, but I hope you all enjoy chapter three :) Thanks for reading!

**Isolation**

**Chapter Three**

  
  


Harry Potter had become quite accustomed to people disappearing in and out of his life. There were several people on that list, his parents and Sirius’ names right there at the top. However, when both of his best friends disappeared on him without warning, he was more than concerned. They were _always_ there and had become a source of constant support for him over the years at Hogwarts. 

_Isolated._ What did Professor McGonagall mean when she said that Ron would need to be isolated? And is that where Hermione was too? He recalled his conversation with Ron about the potion that Hermione was exposed to. McGonagall had also inquired on whether or not Ron had _touched_ Hermione. He definitely noticed his best friend flush scarlet at the implication of the question she was asking. Harry was more than aware of the growing romantic feelings between his two best friends, although he often tried his hardest to stay out of their many heated rows. They were both incredibly stubborn and he didn’t figure that they would manage to work things out on their own anytime soon, however, McGonagall’s question and Ron’s reaction made him wonder. _Did something happen between them already?_

He searched the corridors for any signs of his professors so that he could seek out the answers he so desperately wanted to his questions. But, to add to his increasing frustration, there was no one to be found. When he had stepped into the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey had ushered him straight back out the door hastily, albeit apologetically, informing him that he would simply have to wait to speak to either Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall directly. 

It didn’t exactly answer his question of whether or not Hermione and Ron were both placed under isolation in the hospital wing, but it was heavily implied as he didn’t get a good look inside before he was pushed back out. 

Harry grumpily made his way back to the common room, thoughts in his head going over ways that he could still help them. The major piece of information that he was missing at this point was the name of the potion that Hermione was exposed to. If he had that name, he could head to the library and search for information on it, exactly as Hermione would if she were here and this was yet again another one of their missions. He had walked by Slughorn’s office a bit earlier and noted that it was sealed off and there was no chance he was going to get a look inside. 

He mumbled the password quietly before entering the portrait hole, most students gathered together and chatting away, oblivious to the absence of two particular Gryffindors. He was just about to trudge himself up the staircase to the dormitories when a fiery red-head came barreling towards him, looking quite out of breath. “Harry!”

Ginny Weasley was certainly a sight to see, and he had tried for many months now to tame the growing butterflies fluttering about his stomach whenever he saw her, to no avail. Shaking his head from his inappropriate thoughts, he furrowed his eyebrows in concern as she reached him. She placed a hand on his arm as she steadied her breath, eliciting a spark that ran through Harry’s body. _Fucking hell._

“My parents are on their way to Hogwarts. It’s Ron and Hermione. They’ve been...infected with something, I’m not sure what. Mcgonagall was very vague when she pulled me into her office just now,” she huffed out a breath and Harry almost smiled at her obvious annoyance, grateful that he wasn’t the only one feeling out of the loop. 

“Did she say _what_ exactly they were exposed to?” Harry eagerly questioned, hopeful now that Ginny would be able to provide some clarity to what was already a confusing situation.

Her lips formed a grim line as she shook her head. “No, she didn’t. I don’t even think she’ll let me in to see Ron,” Ginny looked hesitantly around the room to make sure no one was watching and then lowered her voice, “She was quite persistent really that I did not mention this to anyone, but I figured you deserved to know.”

Harry smiled appreciatively, “Thanks.” Making a quick decision, Harry reached out to grasp Ginny’s hand and pulled her into the corner of the room for more privacy. Ginny’s eyes bulged out as Harry held her hand tightly within his, but said nothing to protest the change in location. 

“Er,” Harry stammered, quickly releasing her hands and settling down on the couch, patting the spot next to him for her to join him, which she did slowly. “So, what do you think your parents know? Any chance you will be able to talk with them once they arrive?”

Ginny sighed and chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. I imagine they’ll have to disclose a bit more to my parents, yeah? But, I can’t exactly send them an owl since they are already en route here and I’m not sure if they would allow me into the infirmary if I stopped by.”

“Yeah, I already tried the hospital wing and no luck,” he bitterly replied. 

They sat in silence for several moments, both gazing over at the fire crackling directly across from their positions on the sofa. “Harry?” Ginny whispered. 

He refocused his gaze to meet Ginny’s cobalt blue eyes. He noticed traces of worry within them. “They’re going to be alright, _right_?” 

Harry reached out to take one of Ginny’s hands again, his heart pounding within his chest, as a result of both being worried for his best friends as well as sitting so close to the girl he’s fancied the entire year. 

“I believe that they will be. I refuse to think otherwise.”

* * *

The first few hours in isolation with your best friend who also happens to be someone you have intense feelings for is...awkward, to say the least. It took a bit for Madame Pomfrey to arrive with the privacy units, so Ron and Hermione had essentially nothing to do but sit and stare at each other. 

Hermione had already decided that she would be requesting her school books, as she was itching to do some reading, desperate for any sort of distraction that would stray her away from her never-ending thoughts about the red-headed boy in the isolation box next to her. She watched Ron nervously as he tapped his thighs rhythmically, which always had seemed to be a habit of his, most notably when he was put into an uncomfortable situation. Her insides squeezed at the thought of him feeling uneasy with being stuck in a glass chamber, alone with her. 

Hermione recalled Ron’s words to her a couple of hours ago. _You and me, Granger._

They had hardly spoken to each other since, both opting instead to find interesting spots to stare at around the room. Occasionally, they would make eye contact with each other, which would usually result in them blushing profusely and immediately averting their gazes elsewhere. _Great._

Finally, after about the fifth attempt at making awkward eye contact with Ron, Hermione huffed out loud, “Oh, this is just ridiculous.”

“Pardon?” Ron asked, his forehead wrinkling together in confusion. 

“We can’t just sit in silence for hours on end. It’s driving me absolutely crazy!” She sputtered, crossing her arms in obvious annoyance. 

“W-well…” Ron stammered, “What would you be doing if we weren’t, you know, stuck in here?”

Hermione considered his question. “Probably catching up on the reading for tomorrow’s lessons,” she then groaned out loud, “Which we are going to _miss_.”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on now. _Catch up on reading?_ I bet you had tomorrow’s reading finished before we even started this school year!”

Hermione grew flustered. It was true that she read through all of her school textbooks prior to arriving at Hogwarts this past year, but she didn’t need to confirm that to Ron. “Well, I suppose you probably haven’t even started the assignments,” she replied instead. 

Ron smugly grinned, which was quickly wiped away with a sudden notion. “You don’t think they’ll still make us do our homework while we are in isolation, do you?”

Hermione barked out a laugh. “Well, I sure hope so! I’m certainly not going to fall behind just because of a professor who didn’t know how to properly label a hazardous potion bottle!”

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione’s outburst and she wondered what he must be thinking. Thankfully, he was rather transparent with his thoughts at the moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you show disappointment in a teacher before.” He sounded somewhat amused. 

Hermione raised her chin slightly. “Well...that’s not true. I was rather disappointed when Professor Lockhart turned out to be a fraud.”

Ron grunted in response. “Lockhart...I still don’t get the appeal he had on women.”

Hermione grew suddenly bashful. “He-he had good hair,” she mumbled quietly, but not quiet enough for Ron not to hear her. 

“ _He had good hair?_ That’s rich. Hermione Granger developed a crush over _good_ hair. Amazing.” There was a tint of bitterness in Ron’s tone of voice. Would she be mistaken to detect it as...jealousy? 

She didn’t really have time to dwell on the idea before the doors burst open again, revealing both Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey. 

“Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, how are you both doing?” McGonagall inquired, eyes darting back and forth between the two.

“Fine,” they mumbled in unison. Their less than enthusiastic response received a pair of raised eyebrows. 

“Well, Madame Pomfrey here will see to it that the necessary privacy units are set up for you both. There will be a separate area for changing, sleeping, and washing. I’m afraid you will have to make do with a simple small tub and some rags and we have charmed your basin for the necessary facilities so that it will empty every day.”

Both Ron and Hermione nodded at the instructions given. Hermione, herself, was feeling slightly overwhelmed over the prospect of sleeping so close to Ron. _It’s not like you haven’t been in the hospital wing overnight together before._

“Now,” McGonagall sighed out, “I must add that the curtains will be required to be closed around your cots while sleeping, changing, and washing. _No exceptions._ ” She eyed them both closely. 

Hermione made the mistake of making eye contact with Ron again in the moment, only to see his face turn as bright as a beet before rotating away from her in embarrassment. _Oh for heaven’s sake._ She felt her own cheeks growing hot from McGonagall’s words. 

McGonagall cleared her throat before continuing, “Mr. Weasley, your parents have been informed of the incident and they are on their way here.” Ron winced at the mention of his parents and what they were thinking about the situation he’s managed to land himself in now. “Miss Granger, since you are now technically 17 and no longer have the trace, I am leaving it up to your discretion whether or not you’d like to inform your parents of what happened.”

“No...I-I don’t want them to know,” Hermione responded hoarsely. Although it was a difficult decision to make, it was one that she made quickly, knowing it was in her best interest not to share any more details on the accidental potion exposure to her muggle parents. _What would they even say?_

She timidly looked over at Ron and caught him watching her with clear worry and concern etched across his face. His mouth was slightly open, poised to say something, but it seems as if he decided against it, likely due to the public nature of the current conversation. 

The professor nodded solemnly. “Very well. While Madame Pomfrey here sets up your units, I will be heading to your dormitories to grab some of your belongings, as well as some of your school reading materials to keep you busy.”

Ron frowned at the mention of _school materials._ He was hoping for copies of his Quidditch magazines, or even his chess set, but he decided against making any requests yet. 

“Professor,” Hermione quietly murmured as several pairs of eyes in the room watched her closely, “I don’t suppose you have any more information on the…” Her voice trailed off at the end, although her question was very clear without needing to continue. 

McGonagall shook her head stiffly. “I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. Healer Stein will arrive promptly tomorrow morning and I am hopeful she will be able to provide you with satisfactory answers to your questions.” _Hope._ That’s all she could cling to at the moment. Hermione sighed inwardly, knowing full well it wasn’t the professor’s fault, but all she wanted to do was to scour the library for any information on the particular potion that infected them. Maybe, just maybe, if she found out what it truly was and what it was used for...she shook her head suddenly at the whirling thoughts in her head. _Don’t be silly Hermione,_ she silently chided herself, _If a team of professionally-trained healers can’t figure out how to medically treat you, what makes you think you could?_

Once her thoughts drifted away and she had oriented herself back to the current reality of her situation, she became aware of Ron’s intense gaze, his eyes boring into hers. It was rather intimidating to see Ron Weasley studying her like she was the hardest exam he had ever taken. She was sure he was trying to figure out what had consumed her thoughts. 

Hermione only then realized that Professor McGonagall had already left the room and it was only Madame Pomfrey who remained. She was paying them no attention as she scurried about, preparing the privacy chambers. She was quite curious to see how these chambers would be transferred into their individual pods and one look at Ron confirmed that he too was thinking the same thing. 

Hermione gasped in amazement as Madame Pomfrey swiftly vanished both sets of privacy units into two small rucksacks. She smiled softly at both of them before levitating the bags into the air. “Stand back for a moment, if you may,” she instructed. Both teenagers did as they were told and watched in awe as the bags floated straight through the invisible glass barrier and into the corner of their pods. 

“ _Blimey,”_ Ron whispered aloud as he gaped at the tiny rucksack on the floor that now held his belongings. 

“An undetectable extension charm...how fascinating!” Hermione mused. 

Ron raised his eyebrows. “How did you know that was even a thing?” He asked incredulously. 

She rolled her eyes at his statement. “Honestly, Ron, don’t you _ever_ read a book?”

Madame Pomfrey coughed from behind them, looking thoroughly amused from the back and forth banter she just witnessed. “You may now retrieve any necessary items you will need from those sacks. The cot should fold out quite simply and there should be plenty of blankets and pillows, but should you need more, do not be shy about letting me know. I will be back shortly with a spot of supper for you both.”

They both murmured a quick thanks before the witch promptly left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone once more. 

Ron’s stomach grumbled loudly. “She better hurry, I’m bloody starving!” 

Hermione ignored his complaint and attempted to busy herself with reaching for the items from her bag. She grunted slightly from the pressure of pulling her cot out, not realizing it extended so much and was particularly large in size compared to what she was expecting. Her hands fumbled on the folded ends of the cot as she struggled to stretch it out along the floor, watching in frustration as it clammered loudly to the ground. 

A small chuckle was heard from across the room and Hermione immediately scowled over at Ron who was watching her closely, appearing quite entertained from her battle with her makeshift bed. 

“You know, I’d offer to help, but…” He burst out into laughter. 

“Oh, shut it!” Hermione snapped, blowing hair out of her face as she pointedly averted her eyes away, determined to get her drapes set up as quickly as possible so that she could hide away in embarrassment if need be. 

“Really, Hermione, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I’m sure there is a book out there somewhere on how to set up furnishings!”

Although she was trying so hard to be angry at Ron’s deliberate teasing, she found herself bubbled over with laughter, not able to stop the round of giggles that escaped her mouth.

Ron smiled even wider at her. “You’re barmy,” he chuckled, and for a minute they were both laughing hysterically. Hermione reckoned their laughter stemmed from more than just her current situation with her bed, but their entire predicament they managed to land themselves in. 

“I...mean…” She choked out between laughs, “How did we...get stuck...in here…”

They were both laughing so hard that they didn’t even notice when the doors opened again and in walked Ron’s baffled parents. “Ron? Hermione?” Arthur called out and the laughter in the room ceased immediately. 

Ron snapped his head towards the front of the room where his parents stood, looking at the two of them in shock. 

“Mum. Dad.” Ron straightened and stood up completely, wiping his hands nervously on his trousers. Hermione mimicked his movements and bit her lip, afraid as to what his parents must think seeing the two of them...like _this._

"Oh Ronnie, my boy…" Molly Weasley came rushing towards the glass, hand clasped over her mouth as she observed the compartment that her son was currently trapped in. 

"Hi, mum."

Her eyes traveled over to Hermione’s chamber. "Hermione, dear, are you both alright?"

"Mum you really didn't have to come all the way to Hogwarts, really…" Ron interjected weakly.

“Now you listen here, Ronald Weasley, I do hope this is the last time I have to receive notice that you’ve manage to find your way into a dangerous situation at Hogwarts,” she scolded and Hermione bowed her head in shame, knowing full well she was to one to blame for this particular incident. She was rather surprised when Ron didn’t offer any information on the true nature of how they ended up here.

“Mum, we’re _fine_ , really, you didn’t need…”

"Oh hush," Molly waved her son off, "I wanted to bring you a few items." She started hastily grabbing at the belongings now held in her arms. “Some extra jumpers to keep you warm, I have one here for you too, Hermione, it’s actually from Christmas still since we didn’t get a chance to visit with you…”

Hermione was silent at Molly’s words, a regretful look crossing her face. She didn’t turn her head towards Ron, but she could feel the heat from his gaze. Finally, she simply muttered, “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

Molly was studying the two teenagers curiously now, clearly contemplating her next words. “I don’t suppose you can tell me how exactly... _this..._ happened?” She gestured stiffly between the glass pods. 

“It was just an accident, mum…” Ron started, but his mum wouldn’t budge. 

“An accident?” She interrupted shrilly, “What kind of accident would land _both_ of you in isolation? Professor McGonagall mentioned it was a potion that you were both exposed to and that it-that it’s spread through _touch.”_ Hermione groaned inwardly at the implication of Molly’s words. She knew _exactly_ what she was thinking.

Arthur put a hand on Molly’s shoulder to calm her. He was definitely taking notice of the growing discomfort that Ron and Hermione were displaying in response to the interrogating questions. “Molly, perhaps we should…”

"Mrs. Weasley, I'm so sorry, this is my fault why Ron's in here…" Hermione began and she attempted to ignore Ron’s glare. 

“Hermione?” Molly questioned again in surprise.

“I was in Professor Slughorn’s office and I was the one who was handling the potion bottle when it shattered and cut my hand,” she held up her still bandaged hand as evidence, “I didn’t know at the time what was in the bottle and I was feeling okay, so I decided to go meet Ron in the library. He saw the cut on my hand and attended to it, that’s all. We were actually on the way to the hospital wing together, after he encouraged me to go.” Hermione smiled softly at Ron, who returned it slightly. “I didn’t know that I would be exposing him too...if I did…” Hermione bowed her head again, struggling to control the guilt that washed over her for what seemed the fifth time that day. _He’s in here because of me._

"Oh Hermione, dear…” Molly began, her voice much more gentle this time, “No one blames you for what happened. This was completely an accident. I'm just-I’m just glad you two have each other." Hermione raised her eyes again and met Molly’s with a watery smile. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, we’re glad to see you two are alright. Try not to worry now, yeah? We will be keeping in touch with the healers and making sure you are well taken care of in here.”

“Thanks, dad,” Ron nodded. 

His parents stayed for a few more minutes as Molly floated the new belongings into their chambers for them. Hermione wasted no time before pulling on the new jumper that Molly had so kindly knitted for her, clinging to the increased warmth the clothing item provided. 

Once his parents had departed and they were alone once more, Ron turned to her immediately, placing a hand to the glass,

“Hey,” Ron’s soft voice broke Hermione from her trance. He was looking at her so tenderly that she was certain her heart stopped for a moment. “I know it must’ve been hard for you...to tell McGonagall not to inform your parents…”

She lowered her head, not willing to let Ron see her eyes well up with tears. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to allow herself to be that vulnerable in front of him. _It’s crazy,_ she thought. _He is your best friend. You’ve already overcome so much together, you’ve most certainly already been in a life-threatening situation together before, and he’s definitely already seen you cry on multiple occasions. This shouldn’t be any different._ Oh, but it was, and she couldn’t put her finger on how just yet. 

“I just think it’s for the best,” she eventually whispered back, “They wouldn’t understand.”

Ron was now sitting with his back against the glass in the corner closest to her, his arm resting against the side of the barrier that divided their pods. “How much do they really know about what’s been happening all these years at Hogwarts?”

Hermione sighed out loud. “Only what is absolutely necessary. I’m not convinced, if I had told them the extent of the adventures we’ve been up to over the years, that I would even be sitting here right now with you.”

Ron didn’t respond to her statement, but she knew he heard her. She wondered briefly if he was thinking about something else, but then a realization came into her head. 

“Harry.”

Ron looked up as he heard the name of their other best friend. “I wonder if he knows.”

“And Ginny,” Ron added. “Harry knows at least part of what’s going on. I was actually talking to him when McGonagall came to fetch me. Of course, at the time, I had no idea where you actually were, just that you may have been infected with something.”

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip nervously. “Oh, he must be beside himself with worry.” When she shifted her eyes over to Ron again, she noticed that he was staring directly at her face, and she quickly wiped around her mouth, hoping she didn’t have anything on it. 

“Yeah, yeah, he must,” he responded in a daze. 

“We should see tomorrow if we can get a letter to him or anything. I don’t suppose they will allow any visitors outside of immediate family?” Hermione questioned. 

Ron merely shrugged in response. 

There was one thing she knew for sure. She wouldn’t be Hermione Granger if she stopped looking for answers to the questions that the adults in the castle were unwilling to give her at this point. With no way out of her current situation, she knew the key to those answers would likely have to be someone outside of their isolation pod. That key was Harry.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Happy Wednesday! I received a couple of questions regarding the nature of how Ron and Hermione are isolated, so I thought I would address those now. While they are in the same room and can see/hear each other, they are in fact separated into pods with a glass divider between them. My apologies if that wasn't clear enough in the first few chapters! More to come on why and how that plays a part in the development of their relationship...enjoy the next chapter :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Molly and Arthur Weasley exited the hospital wing, not prepared for the sight of Ginny and Harry. They were standing by the wall, determined looks on their faces. 

“Mum! Dad!”

The two parents looked at each other briefly, silently communicating how to approach this situation. “Ginny, dear!” They leaned over to embrace their daughter first, before turning to Harry.

“Oh Harry, come here,” Molly pulled him into a tight hug, which returned weakly. “Thank heavens, you’re alright!”

“How are Ron and Hermione? What’s happened?” Harry flooded them with a string of questions, watching as Molly’s cheeks grew flustered. She looked over at Arthur, pleading with her eyes for help. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “They are both doing just fine for now. We should know more in the coming days.”

“ _For now?”_ Ginny piped up, “What does that mean? What were they exposed to?” 

Molly and Arthur observed the growing frustration between the pair in front of them and they weren’t quite sure how to put them at ease. 

“Please, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley...we just want to know if they are alright,” Harry pleaded as Molly’s demeanor changed slightly. 

She reached over to pat Harry’s shoulder affectionately. “They have each other, dear. Do not worry.”

Harry was smart enough to know that was her way of evading the question directly. She was smiling at him, but her eyes told a different story. _She doesn’t know if they will be alright._

* * *

The first night alone in isolation with Ron was awkward as hell. They were given a strict curfew of lights off at 9 pm, required to close their curtains around their beds and settle down for sleep. Hermione recalled tentatively peeking her head out from behind her curtains shortly before falling asleep, barely able to make out Ron’s closed curtains from the other side of the glass divider. “Ron? Are you still awake?”

“No,” his reply came fast. 

Hermione laughed softly and shook her head. She bit her lip, not sure really what to say next. 

“Did you need something?” His voice called out again in the darkness. 

“No I-no. Just...goodnight.” She hastily closed her drapes again and crawled onto her cot. Just before her head hit the pillow, she heard Ron’s voice one last time,

“Sweet dreams, Hermione.”

The next morning, Hermione woke to the sounds of dishes clattering and stretched her arms for a moment in bed before sliding open her curtains. Much to her surprise, Ron was already awake, feasting on plates of bacon, sausages, and pumpkin juice. Her own breakfast sat waiting for her beside her privacy chambers. 

“G’morning,” Ron greeted with a full mouth, chewing vigorously on a piece of bacon. 

“It’s not polite to chew with your mouth full,” she chided, but nevertheless sent him a shy smile back before settling down on the floor behind her plates of food. Her stomach rumbled in hunger. 

“You love it,” he teased. “How did you sleep?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “Fine, I guess. I much prefer my bed up in the dormitories but...this will make do, I suppose. How about you?”

Ron crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the glass. “Didn’t sleep much, really.”

She thought about asking him why, but the pensive look on his face made her rethink that question. Instead, she changed the subject. 

"I'm going to request that we get some books specifically on potions from the library. There has got to be something in there about…"

"Anything you could read in a book, so could the professors, Hermione. I'm sure they're already on it,” Ron interrupted. 

She sent him a glare. "Well there must be _some way_ that we could be helpful.”

"There is. Stay calm."

Hermione almost laughed at the audacity of his statement. Did he truly believe that she would want to sit in a glass case doing nothing? “How do you expect me to stay calm when I _know_ there are ways that we can help get out of this... _situation_. Don’t you want to try to figure it out?”

Ron sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. She forgot for a moment that his lack of sleep may be a contributor to his grumpy mood. “Of course, I do. But I also don’t want to drive myself nutters in here. I know it’s hard for you Hermione, but don’t you think you should try to relax and have some trust that the adults have it all under control?”

Hermione snorted. “Oh really? The adults have it handled? What about the time when the troll entered the dungeon? Did the adults have it handled then?” Ron opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, “Or when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and it wasn’t resolved until you and Harry went down there and Harry killed the basilisk? Did the adults have it handled then?”

“Okay, Hermione…” He mumbled.

“ _Or,_ how about the time when Harry’s name showed up in the Goblet of Fire and they forced him to participate in the tournament tasks? Did the adults handle _that_ particular situation very well?”

“Okay!” He snapped loudly and she quieted down then. “I get it.”

There was a tense silence between them for several minutes and Hermione resigned herself to finishing her breakfast, although she suddenly wasn’t very hungry anymore. Occasionally, she would sneak glances over at Ron, who was playing with the frayed edges of his robes between his fingertips. 

Hermione was working up the courage to speak to Ron again, when the doors from the infirmary opened and Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Healer Stein all walked in together. 

“Good morning, you two. I trust that breakfast was satisfying?” Madame Pomfrey inquired first. 

Ron still didn’t glance up, so Hermione spoke for them, “Yes, thank you very much.”

Professor McGonagall regarded Ron curiously for a moment, before saying, “Well, Healer Stein has returned this morning to do a routine check of your vitals.”

“How are you both feeling?” Healer Stein asked before stepping forward. 

“I’m feeling fine, same as yesterday,” Hermione responded immediately. They all turned to Ron, who had his gaze still fixed on his robes in front of him. “Ron?” Hermione added in an attempt to get his attention. 

He looked over slowly and shrugged. “About the same too, I guess.”

“You guess? Mr. Weasley, can you elaborate?” Healer Stein’s brows furrowed with concern. 

When he didn’t respond right away, Hermione interjected, “I don’t think he got much sleep last night.” 

“I can bring you some dreamless sleep potion for tonight, if you’d like. Just for one night though, that stuff is particularly potent and can be addictive if used improperly,” Madame Pomfrey added. 

“Thanks,” Ron finally acknowledged and offered a small smile. Hermione was grateful that he seemed to be perking up a bit more. 

“Now, let’s check your vitals, Miss Granger if you would be so kind as to come closer to the glass for me,” Healer Stein advised. Hermione followed her request and stood still as a familiar flash of red light scanned her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Ron was standing now, watching her closely. The healer was quiet for a moment as she reviewed the results and then, fortunately, smiled up at her. “Everything looks relatively normal still. The only change I see is that your heart rate is elevated slightly…” Hermione specifically avoided Ron’s eyes then. “However, there are a multitude of factors that could cause that, including feelings of anxiety or nervousness.”

“Would a calming draught be appropriate to use in this situation?” Madame Pomfrey asked.

The healer nodded. “Yes, a calming draught should help. Now, Mr. Weasley?”

Ron mimicked Hermione's movements and stepped forward. Following his own scan, Healer Stein hummed curiously. "Well, Mr. Weasley, your vitals are normal as well. But, similar to Miss Granger, you appear to exhibit a slight elevation in heart rate as well."

"Two calming draughts then…" Madame Pomfrey murmured softly before exiting the room. 

Hermione watched as the healer was busy writing notes on a piece of parchment in her hands, so she took the opportunity to speak to Professor McGonagall directly. “Professor...is there any chance that we would be allowed visitors?”

McGonagall offered an apologetic look. “I’m afraid not, Miss Granger. It is crucial that, for now, we keep the nature of your infirmary stay strictly between only those who absolutely need to know.”

“Does Ginny know?” Ron asked. 

“She knows that you are both in isolation. I left it up to your parents’ discretion of whether or not they disclose any more information to her or the rest of your family.”

Hermione had hope that, if the Weasleys did inform Ginny of what happened, she would make sure the information was given to Harry as well. Her eyes met Ron’s, and she was certain that he was thinking the same thing. 

* * *

"I feel like we should play a game." 

It was later in the afternoon and Hermione was deep in thought as she read through pages and pages of one of her textbooks given to her. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron’s comment. "Of course you do."

"What? It's not like it's bloody exciting in here. There's nothin' to do."

"We've got books," Hermione sighed as she held up her transfiguration book that was in her lap. "You _could_ be studying, you know, so that you don't fall…"

"...behind. Yeah I get it, Hermione," Ron completed her sentence in exasperation. He glanced over at his discarded books across the room and wrinkled his nose. He turned his attention back to his bushy-haired best friend. He observed her as she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully and scanned the words on the open page of her book with her finger. He noticed how her curls perfectly framed her face, but still allowed him to view the small patch of freckles around her nose. Admittedly, he had spent many study sessions with her just watching her every move as opposed to actually studying himself. 

Hermione looked up and flushed once she noticed him staring. Suddenly, she felt quite intimidated about being in such close proximity to Ron and him having full view of her every move. "What now, Ronald?"

"Let's play 20 questions," Ron gazed determinedly at her. 

"No."

"Okay then, a watered down version of it."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh please, do tell me what exactly a _watered down_ version of 20 Questions consists of."

"You ask me a question, I answer it. Then I ask you a question and you answer it. The end."

Hermione barked out a laugh. "That is EXACTLY the same thing."

"No it's not, cause I'm only asking you to commit to one round, not twenty!" Ron smiled cheekily. 

"Fine " Hermione relented and shut her book loudly. "If you promise to stop bothering me and let me study for a bit after, I'll play."

"Sorted!" Ron grinned. "So shall I ask first or do you want to go?" 

"Hmmm...I'll let you go first." _Maybe I can just piggy back off the questions he asks. No harm, no foul._

"What are you most afraid of?"

Whatever question she thought he would ask, that wasn't it. Her first thought that came to mind was failing a class. 

"And please don't tell me it's something like getting low marks in school, cause that's a bloody cop out and you know it!" _Damn, can he read my mind?_ Hermione sighed inwardly and continued to deliberate on a reasonable answer. 

It was a few moments later before Hermione hesitantly whispered, "Watching someone I love get hurt or...or die."

She watched Ron's eyes timidly and was bothered by how she couldn't read the expression on his face. The air in the room suddenly felt thicker and she waited with bated breath for his response. 

"Yeah...yeah that would be my worst fear too," Ron finally answered, eyes unmoving off her face. 

"Not spiders?" Hermione laughed slightly, attempting to diffuse the tension. 

Ron snorted, "Close second, I s'pose."

He shifted his body towards her more and Hermione noted to herself how handsome he looked perched up against the glass, one hand wrapped around one bended knee, his other leg stretched out lazily on the ground. She gulped and caught the urge to fan herself. _Why is it so hot in here?_

Ron studied Hermione's shifty eyes and frowned. He often wondered what in the world this brilliant witch in front of him could be thinking. She was awfully confusing most of the time. 

Clearing his throat, Ron started, "So uh - what's your question?" 

Realizing that Ron had already answered the question he asked of her, Hermione knew she had to come up with something else quick. 

"Is there - is there anything you regret and if so, what is it?" 

"Technically, that's two questions," Ron replied sarcastically. 

"Well fine, make me answer another question after this and we'll call it even." She really wanted to hear Ron's answer and didn't want to give him the chance to back out. 

"That'll do," he chuckled and rested his head back against the glass in thought. "I guess I would have to say...yes. I do regret things. If we're talking this year….I s'pose I would have to say I regret….not getting a chance to go with you to the Christmas party."

Hermione sat stunned. She certainly wasn't expecting that response. Her heart caught in her throat as she tried to process the meaning behind his words. _Was there a hidden meaning?_

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to offer back. Ron was still giving her that infuriating look, the look that she had no idea how to decipher. 

"Why didn't you go out with Krum after he kissed you?" Ron's voice was steady and determined as he questioned. 

Hermione's lips parted, completely startled yet again by the question. She had no idea how he even _knew_ about the kiss. Wait a minute... _Ginny._

She decided there was no other way to answer the question truthfully without inquiring further, "Why didn't you go out with Lavender after she kissed _you_?" 

"You didn't answer my question."

Hermione gulped and fiddled with her fingers. She was certain that if her heart rate was elevated earlier, it was even more so now. However, there was no current way out and she couldn't avoid the question any longer, so she finally gathered the courage to respond. "There was no spark. Sure, he was charming, but that's as far as it went. He didn't know me like…" Hermione paused. She couldn't go further, not when she was stuck for god knows how long with her best friend whom she happens to be in love with. 

Ron tilted his head to the side curiously. "Like what?" 

Hermione bit her lip. _Of course he wouldn't let it go._ "Like someone should if they were to - get together like that," she deflected lamely. Hermione watched Ron's mouth split into a frown. 

"I see," he responded coolly. 

"Now your turn," Hermione urged. 

"I don't believe I am required to answer any more questions, Miss Granger." 

" _Ron,_ please?" 

He softened at the imploring look that crossed her face. "I guess I could probably say the same as you...it didn't feel right." Ron shrugged his shoulders but his gaze remained intense and heated on her face. 

It was never spoken, but their game of twenty questions was decidedly over after that. 

* * *

"Why is your patronus an otter?"

Hermione raised her head about an hour later, surprised at the randomness of Ron's question. "What?" She repeated, unable to form a coherent thought. 

"Your patronus? It's an otter, innit?" 

"Y-yes it is." She was baffled that he even paid attention to her patronus. _Well you do know that his patronus is a terrier_. 

Ron held up the book of spells in his lap and Hermione smiled inwardly at the fact that he had eventually resigned to studying, despite his initial protests. 

"I'm reading a wicked section on different patronuses and what they mean. I was just curious."

"I don't actually know," Hermione surmised, "But they are sort of nice, aren't they?" 

"Oh, here it is!" Ron's eyes lit up as he began reading the words on the page, "The otter is a semi-aquatic animal who is known to be quite clever and knowledgeable, although also exhibits a carefree side to them which is often hidden beneath the surface." Ron looked towards Hermione and gave her a smirk, "I know you can be fun when you want to, Granger."

"Oh shut it!" Hermione responded in agitation, although feeling quite pleased with the description. "Now what about yours? A Jack Russell Terrier, right?" 

She noticed that Ron looked thrilled that she also knew his patronus. His eyes shifted back towards the book and kept scanning. "Ah, here it is. Terriers can be characterized as lively, loyal, charming, and affectionate. They also exhibit traits that can often be buried underneath the surface…they can be quite clever and smart, but do not always show this side of them."

Hermione shook her head, " _See?_ You _are_ intelligent, if you just weren't so stubborn and actually completed your schoolwork on time..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it Hermione," Ron mumbled grumpily. "Here's a bit more - the terriers are known for chasing foxes, rats, badgers, and...and otters."

_What did he just say?_ Hermione watched Ron’s face closely, which was decidedly growing redder by the minute. He slammed his book shut and avoided her eyes. 

“Well-well that was...interesting…” Ron fumbled out. 

“Yeah…” She whispered back, “Interesting.” Twice today. Twice that they had managed to land themselves on an awkward topic of conversation that neither seemed willing to expand upon. She chewed on her lip nervously and attempted to focus her attention back on her Transfiguration notes. 

She was distracted for the rest of the day. 

* * *

Shortly before 9 pm that evening, Madame Pomfrey came by to check on them, leaving behind a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion for both of them. Although Hermione had not requested it, she seemed grateful for the ability to take it, as she was sure she would be tossing and turning all night due to the revelations of today’s events. She watched Ron silently as he moved about his pod, already dressed in his pajamas and currently working on adding more blankets to his cot. 

An idea crossed Hermione’s mind, although it had been discouraged by her professors. 

"Ron? Is it okay if we don't close our curtains tonight?" He paused and slowly turned to meet her gaze. "I just - I'm feeling really anxious and I don't think I can sleep alone. I mean, I know you're right here no matter what, but…"

"I know what you mean," he offered quickly. "I'm here Hermione." It could be wishful thinking, but Hermione swears he was giving her a tender look that he only reserved for her. Ron moved towards his bed but left his curtains open. 

Satisfied, Hermione returned to her own bed and slid her feet underneath the covers, wrapping herself tightly into the warmth of her blankets. 

"Can we keep talking until I fall asleep?" 

"Of course."

"Tell me a funny story."

"Won't that do the opposite of putting you to sleep?"

"Depends on how interesting the story is," Hermione sent him a wide-toothed grin.

"I mean, I can tell you the story of myself. A 6-foot ginger who stumbles over his big feet, enjoys eating, and curses way too much."

"Oh, do tell more," Hermione giggled and snuggled under her covers. 

"Ah, okay, well, there was the time I failed to turn my rat yellow on the train. Then there was the time I fell straight off the back of a Knight in the most ridiculous game of Wizarding chess I've ever played. Oh, how about when I crashed my dad's car into the Whomping Willow? I also managed to accidentally curse myself and burp up slugs for an entire day..."

"You know, most of the scenarios you only went through because you were helping others. Except for the car fiasco, I honestly don't know _what_ you and Harry were thinking…" 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah we get it." Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the grumbling annoyance she heard in his voice. She pulled her blankets tighter over her body and whispered,

"Ron?"

"Yeah?" His voice came a moment later. It was dark in the room now and she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was there. Perhaps that is why she had the courage to continue. 

"You burped up slugs for me," she grinned. 

Ron closed his eyes and a soft smile appeared on his face, pleased by the affectionate tone of voice Hermione had offered. "Yeah, yeah I did."

They both fell into silence, drifting off into sleep, only consumed with happy images.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Happy Sunday, all! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, hope you all enjoy :) Thanks for reading!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Five**

* * *

The next morning, Ron and Hermione were happily chatting away as they consumed the array of pastries and pumpkin juice left out for them for breakfast. Hermione felt decidedly lighter when she woke up, likely having something to do with the additional rest she got the night before. She knew Ron must have slept better too, as his mood seemed to have lifted and the color had returned to his cheeks. She considered proposing that they sleep without their curtains closed every night, but she wasn’t keen on how to broach the subject. 

“Would you rather the library be closed for a month _or_ oversleep and miss all of your classes for the day?” Ron smirked at the question he presented her with. 

Hermione laughed. “Well, I’m already missing all of my classes aren’t I? I suppose I’d pick that one. It’d be a travesty for the library to be closed that long!” 

Ron shook his head with a knowing smile. 

“Alright, my turn,” Hermione paused to think of her choice, “Would you rather let a spider crawl up your arm,” she delightfully watched Ron shiver, “ _or_ not be able to have a single bacon sandwich for a month?”

Ron playfully fisted his hand over his heart. “Ah, you got me with that one.” She giggled at his dramatic interpretation. “Let’s see, I think I would choose the spider.”

“Really?” Hermione responded in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Ron shrugged. “I mean, it’s happened before. When you were petrified, Harry and I were surrounded by loads of them all at once. Bloody terrifying, it was.”

“I still wish I could’ve seen your face…” Hermione teased back. 

“We wished we could have seen your face, too,” Ron whispered and the conversation had turned significantly more serious. “It helped, you know, having something, _someone_ to fight for. It helped me conquer my fear long enough to make it through.”

_Pitter patter._ There goes her heart again. “You were very brave for Ginny, I’m sure.”

“Not just Ginny.”

There was an ache in Hermione’s chest as Ron gazed over at her with those bright blue eyes. She suddenly felt very exposed in front of him. 

Hermione coughed slightly, a piece of pastry lodged in her throat. She took a swig of her juice to help clear it and watched Ron’s amused grin. She didn’t have time to respond before the doors opened. 

In walked Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, and Healer Stein. They were huddled together and whispering through hushed tones as they approached the glass barriers slowly. Hermione’s smile dropped into a frown. She made brief eye contact with Ron, who was looking just as concerned. 

“Good morning, you too,” Professor McGonagall greeted somewhat warmly, although there was an added stiffness to her tone. “Mr. Weasley, I trust you slept better last night?”

“Yes, professor,” he confirmed gratefully. 

The healer did a quick scan of their vitals, this time waiting until she had completed both assessments before giving them the results. She hummed appreciatively and Hermione hoped that could be taken as a positive sign. “Levels are the same as yesterday, you both seem to be in good health and are not currently displaying any symptoms or potential side effects to the potion exposure.”

“Pardon me, healer, but perhaps you could tell us what symptoms or side effects exactly could we be at risk for? Just so that we know to inform you if we start to feel differently,” Hermione inquired. 

Healer Stein exchanged a quick glance with Professor McGonagall, who nodded back. “Very well,” the healer began, “While the long-term effects of this particular potion are unclear, there have been previous reports of headaches, nausea, vomiting, bleeding from the nose, and the development of rashes upon the skin. There are medical interventions we can try should you develop any one of these symptoms.”

_That doesn’t sound so bad,_ Hermione thought to herself, _But why do they still look so grim?_

“Is there something else we should know?” Ron asked, already one step ahead of Hermione. 

“Yes,” McGonagall started and she walked forward, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her robes. “We thought it would be prudent to inform you both that Professor Slughorn has started showing side effects to the potion exposure. He has developed a severe infection, likely stemming from a large rash on the skin of his ankle and foot.” Hermione realized that when she dropped the potion bottle, the chemical had seeped onto the floor and likely through the sole of his shoes. She looked down at her hands that looked perfectly normal. Could that be where she should expect a rash to potentially develop?

Healer Stein interjected, “We do believe age to be a factor. Given that both of you are young and healthy, it is likely that you may not experience as adverse of a reaction as Professor Slughorn, or possibly could have no reaction at all, however we will continue to monitor you daily for at least two weeks.”

“Any other questions that we can answer for you?” Madame Pomfrey inquired further. 

Ron glanced over at Hermione for a split second before asking, “We know you said that we weren’t allowed to have any visitors. But, we were wondering if you would consider changing your mind? Even if it was just for five minutes, tops?”

McGonagall’s lips spread into a thin line and she exchanged a silent look with Madame Pomfrey. Hermione pressed her hand close to the glass, anxiously awaiting their response. 

“I suppose we could allow _one_ visitor,” Madame Pomfrey finally relented. She watched the faces of the two students brighten up instantly, “And for a very short amount of time.”

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. 

“Who do you wish to see?” The professor asked. Ron met Hermione’s eyes as they conversed without words. Ron would love to see his sister, that she was certain of, but there was one person in particular that they needed at this moment, someone who could hopefully help them make sense as to what was happening around them. 

At the same time, they both proclaimed, 

“Harry.”

* * *

Harry found himself dragging his feet towards the library following his Tuesday class schedule. He had received several questions over the past couple of days regarding his two best friends, missing in action. _Where are Ron and Hermione? Are they okay? How do you not know what is going on, Harry?_

He had to fight the instinct to punch Malfoy following his particularly revolting comment, “ _I’m not surprised that the mudblood and blood traitor disappeared. Was bound to happen eventually_!”

It’s safe to say that Harry’s mood had deflated quickly, as he was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his classwork when all he could think about was finding out where the fuck his friends were. And if they were in fact, in trouble, how could he help them? 

Harry decided that he couldn’t sit in the common room mulling about any longer. He may not know what exactly had happened, but he was determined to figure it out. To his surprise, he walked into an almost empty library to find Ginny already sitting at a table situated near the front of the room. She looked up as he spotted her.

“It’s about time you showed up,” she declared. 

_Fucking hell she is perfect._ Despite the rather inappropriate thoughts he’s had towards his best friend’s little sister over the past year, he was grateful that he at least had her, and that they seemed to be on the same page when it came to figuring shit out. 

“What’ve you got?” He mumbled as he took the seat directly across from her. 

Ginny pushed a book over in his direction. “Advanced book of potions. It _was_ a potion exposure, wasn’t it?”

Harry sighed and signaled confirmation with his head. “Yes, but I honestly don’t even know where to start. We don’t know anything about it...what color the potion was, what the side effects were, hell the name would be the most helpful…”

“Maybe we can at least highlight the most lethal ones? Perhaps some that might require isolation away from other people?” Ginny suggested. She truly was brilliant, Harry mused. She was a mix of fiery spirit, bravery, and intelligence, which seemed to be a combination that would likely get him in trouble at some point. 

“Yes, let’s take a look for potions that have the ability to spread if infected....” Harry agreed and they started to peer over pages and pages for any concoctions that stood out. They found several, making sure to underline them as they went along. Harry left the table briefly to take a look at the other books on the shelves, scanning for any other potential references. He ended up returning to the table with a book on Latin derivatives and History of Dark Magic. 

“I’m going through the history book as well. I’ve also noticed that a lot of the potion names are difficult to decipher and I thought it was possible the names could have originated from Latin word forms,” he explained as Ginny curiously observed the unfamiliar texts. 

“That’s really smart, Harry,” Ginny grinned at him, before lowering her head again to concentrate on the list of potion names in front of her. 

_She thinks I’m smart,_ Harry thought smugly to himself, as he opened the newly acquired book in front of him. He didn’t have a chance to dive into the content before a sound from the front of the room disrupted their reading. 

The doors opened again, quieting Harry and Ginny as they found it to be none other than Professor McGonagall. She eyed them both closely and walked in stride over to their table. “Ah, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley. I’m glad I’ve found you Mr. Potter...in the library.”

He was a tad offended that McGonagall looked surprised. “Something you need, professor? Do you have any new information on Ron and Hermione?” He asked quickly. 

“Perhaps we can speak for a moment in private, Mr. Potter? I have a matter to discuss with you, shouldn’t take too long, Miss Weasley.” Ginny appeared enraged that she was being left out of this conversation, but nevertheless Harry followed the professor out of the library. 

She kept moving towards an empty classroom and motioned for him to step inside before she closed the door behind them with a flick of her wand. “Mr. Potter, I know you’ve had some questions regarding your friends…”

“How are they? Are they okay?” Harry couldn’t stop the string of questions that left his mouth. 

Professor McGonagall held up a hand. “They are both being well cared for, Mr. Potter. I wanted to inform you that I have granted a request by both Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger to allow one visitor, for a maximum of ten minutes.” Harry straightened at the professor’s words. “They have chosen that person to be you.”

“Great, when do I get to go?” 

“This offer is conditional, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall warned. “I cannot allow you to go visit them unless you are clear on the confidentiality agreement that we will have in place. You must not, under any circumstances, share any personal health information regarding Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger with anyone. It is imperative that this particular matter be kept under wraps for now.”

“Certainly...but, what about Ginny?” Harry had to ask. He was confident in his ability to keep this secret away from his classmates, but _Ginny..._ he considered that task quite daunting. 

“I will make sure that Miss Weasley is properly informed on her brother’s condition, but for now we can only allow one visitor, I’m afraid.”

Harry processed the information and found he only had one question left to ask. “So....when do I go?”

* * *

“This is all so fucked up,” Ron groaned, placing his head in his hands.

They were alone once more after the adults had left the room. Hermione was pacing back and forth nervously, fiddling with her fingers. She was really missing her wand, as she typically resorted to tracing the vinewood along its length between her fingers, particularly when feeling anxious or contemplating a puzzling situation. 

“Honestly, how do they manage to present us with that information and not expect us to drive ourselves completely mental! I mean, what do we do? What if we start showing symptoms? What if they can’t get us to St. Mungo’s for proper treatment…”

“ _Hermione,_ ” Ron interrupted her tirade, rubbing his eyes jadedly. 

“ _What?”_ Hermione snapped back and he met her eyes that were now filled with rage. _Oh, he’s angry now._

“No need to start panicking yet,” Ron grumbled. 

She stopped moving and placed her hands on her hips. “I shouldn’t start panicking yet? _Yet?_ When exactly would be the appropriate time to start panicking, may I ask?”

“Would you just _listen_ to me for once?” Ron shouted at her, now standing up on his feet. 

“I’m trying to do anything, _anything_ I can to get us out of this mess, so excuse me if I’m not willing to just sit back and do nothing while an unknown potion works its way through my bones!”

“Oh, and that’s what I’m doing, huh? Just sitting back, not at all concerned that you could start showing similar symptoms as Slughorn any minute now?” Hermione thought it was odd that Ron didn’t include himself in that statement, but she didn’t bother to correct him. 

“I didn’t say that!”

“But that’s what you were implying!”

Hermione wanted to stomp her foot in protest. “I am _not!_ All I am saying is that I want to _do_ something! I am _trying_ and I would appreciate some support from you.”

Ron sighed loudly and rubbed the crease on his forehead in frustration. His voice lowered slightly. “I know you do, but you are no help to anyone if you let your emotions get the best of you. I mean look at you, you are completely exhausting yourself. Just take a deep breath, okay?”

“I do _not_ need you to tell me what to do, Ron!” She gritted her teeth in frustration. Her words were sharp and she knew a part of her was overreacting a bit, but she needed to vent her frustration and Ron was the only person available to her right now. 

“Bloody hell, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, Hermione,” he shot back at her, “Maybe...maybe we should take some space for a few minutes, yeah? I know we aren’t used to backing down during a row, but I’m not really feeling like having a shouting match with you right now.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Hermione curtly replied. 

“Fine,” Ron muttered back angrily just before Hermione roughly closed the curtains around her cot. 

She let out a frustrated cry as she threw herself onto her bed, face pressed into her pillow. She attempted to muffle the sound of her tears, thoroughly annoyed knowing that Ron could still hear her. 

“Hermione…” His voice called out, much softer this time. Yes, he could _definitely_ hear her crying. 

“Hermione, please,” he tried again, “I know you can hear me.”

“ _Silencio,”_ she murmured under her breath. She felt silly for even trying. She didn’t have her wand. 

“You know you can’t silence yourself without a wand, right?” Ron spoke again and Hermione growled,

“Ron, just leave me alone!” 

He was quiet for a long time after that and Hermione managed to gently cry herself into a deep slumber.

* * *

Hermione woke groggily, adjusting herself to her surroundings. The sunlight was dimmer, now barely peeking out through the windows circling the perimeter of the room. She figured it had to be close to supper time. She raised her body up off of her cot, her head pounding lightly, likely from straining her puffy eyes from all of the crying. She heard movement from outside of the drapes, and she figured Ron had to be awake. Taking a deep breath, she slid open her curtains slowly. 

She immediately found Ron seated next to his cot, a plate of food beside him. She found her own small tray of sustenance and she shakily took a seat so that she was mirroring Ron’s position on the opposite side of the glass barrier. She wasn’t quite sure how long the food had been sitting out, but she realized that it appeared that Ron hadn’t even started digging into his plate yet. He watched her expectantly, an unsettling look upon his face. Hermione felt her insides twist around and took a chance on her bowl of porridge that she placed carefully in her lap. The bowl was still warm and she wondered if Madame Pomfrey had placed a charm on it when she found her sleeping still. Blowing lightly on her utensil, she placed a spoonful of the soup into her mouth and sighed in content. 

Ron smiled faintly at her actions and followed her movements, no longer hesitating before shoveling mouthfuls of food into his mouth all at once. She offered a shy smile back, thinking in her mind how long he had waited to eat. _Could he have waited just so that we could eat together?_ The warm, tingling feeling returned and Hermione couldn’t place whether or not it was due to the heat of the soup she was consuming or Ron’s sweet gesture. 

They ate in a comfortable silence for several minutes, both sneaking glances at one another from time to time. Hermione took her last bite of bread before wiping the crumbs from her fingers and dabbing a napkin around the corners of her mouth. She observed with a quiet snort that Ron had long since finished his own meal and was clearly and actively trying _not_ to gaze her way. 

“I’m sorry.”

Ron’s head snapped up at her words and she watched as a slow, relieved smile spread across his face. “I’m sorry, too.”

“It’s just...all of this...it’s just so confusing and I don’t know what I should think or what I should feel…” Hermione continued, her shoulders sagging helplessly. 

"Hermione…” Ron shifted uncomfortably from his position in the corner of the glass, “I hate that you are in here. But if you have to be, for what it's worth, I'm glad that I am here too.” 

"I wish you weren't here with me," Hermione whispered back, her eyes widening as she realised how her statement could be interpreted. She watched as Ron's eyes filled with hurt and confusion. "No...no! I didn't mean it _that_ way. I just wish I didn't expose you. I wish you could be safe somewhere and not locked up.” 

Ron nodded at her words and pondered for a moment. "Well...I almost think it's better than the alternative,” he eventually mumbled. 

Hermione’s eyebrows crinkled together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I can be locked up here, in quarantine with you. Or, I can be back in Gryffindor tower, agonizing over what's happening to you and not being able to see you. I think I'd go bloody mental. So yeah...I think it's safe to say I'd rather be with you no matter where we are.”

_I’d rather be with you no matter where we are._ The warm, fuzzy feeling was spreading more prominently through her insides and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. She didn’t immediately respond to his confession and she wondered how Ron was interpreting the peculiar expression on her face. 

"Would you...would you rather be alone?" Ron asked hesitantly. 

"No," Hermione spoke rasply, but her reply was immediate. 

"Would you...rather someone else be in here with you?" 

She didn't know how to answer this one honestly without her words coming out wrong. "Yes...but not for the reasons you think.” 

Ron was visibly crestfallen. "Maybe you'd rather have someone like-like Harry?" 

"No, definitely not,” she determined rather quickly. The look that crossed Ron’s face seemed to be a mixture of confusion and disappointment. Did he think that she wanted _Harry_ instead of him? 

"Ronald,” she sighed in exasperation. "I just mean that...I don't want _anyone_ to have to be in here of course, but if someone does have to be, I'm glad that it's you,” She paused to view Ron’s befuddled expression, “but I'm also not glad, because that means it's _you_ who is in here with me and I swear Ron, I can't take it if something happens to you and it's all my fault…" Her voice trailed off as she could feel her body shake with sobs. 

Ron’s voice sounded only moments later and she heard his gentle tone for the second time this day. "Hermione… _Hermione_ ….please, look at me.” 

Hermione lifted her head up to reveal her tear-stained cheeks and blotchy, red eyes. She met Ron's gaze and watched as he placed his hand on the glass barrier between them, his own eyes looking quite red. When did _he_ start crying? "Come to the glass...please.”

Wordlessly, Hermione scooted her body closer until her entire side was pressed up against the window, her head coming to rest against the glass. She lifted her hand up and copied Ron’s movements, placing it on the cool barrier to mirror his own hand. 

_Blimey, his eyes are so blue._

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Hermione spoke in a hushed tone. She attempted to figure out the unfamiliar flash that passed through his eyes that looked something along the lines of...hope? Desire? Could it be possible that he yearned for her touch as much as she yearned for his? Especially given the way his eyes were intently focused on the spot where their hands met, only separated by a thin barrier.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you either,” he breathed out, his own forehead now leaning against the glass as he gazed into her irises. They were _so close_ now, allowing themselves to be freely vulnerable around each other. 

  
Slowly but surely, it seemed as if they were starting to find their way, and Hermione had hope that they were _at last_ on the same track.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Hi again, everyone! It's been a hectic week in RL, but I'm back! I dedicate this chapter to the HPRomione Discord - thanks for the support and always encouraging us authors to keep writing. Happy reading :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Hermione's eyelids fluttered open and she found herself staring directly into a pair of faint blue orbs from the other side of the divider. They had fallen asleep with their curtains open again the night prior, chatting into the late hours about anything from their professors to sharing childhood stories. It surprised her with how much she still didn’t know about Ron’s life before she met him, despite having been friends for many years now. How did she not know that he once accidentally levitated Ginny’s dolly onto the roof when he was six? Or that he always preferred mustard to bacon sandwiches until his Uncle Bilius made him one with bacon once when he was eight? 

This was certainly the most alone time they had ever spent together with just the two of them. She realized then that Harry was usually around for the majority of their conversations and it was oddly refreshing to feel a bit more at ease and comfortable talking to Ron for an extended period of time without actually rowing for once. 

"Hi,” she shyly whispered, pulling her covers up to her neck. Ron was situated on his side, still laying down on his cot, and he smiled faintly over at her.

"Hi." Ron cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep well?” 

“I did.”

“Good. Me too.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.”

Hermione’s face flushed and she sat up quickly. Something about the intensity of Ron’s gaze, mixed with their current positions on their beds, had dissolved her into a bundle of nerves. However, in her attempt to calm the indecent thoughts rummaging through her head, she hadn’t noticed right away that her blanket had fallen well below her lap, now exposing her bare shoulders. The thin, cotton strap of her pyjama top hung loosely to her frame, the straps sliding down her arms as she shifted her body around. 

A strangled noise rang out from the opposite side of the room and Hermione redirected her attention to Ron, who was now openly gaping at her exposed skin. “ _Oh,”_ she sputtered out, quickly folding her blanket around her shoulders to cover up. “I’m sorry, I...I guess I’ll just get dressed now,” she quickly added before closing the curtains around her bed, watching as Ron’s flustered face faded from view. 

Hermione’s heart was racing as she rummaged through her small pile of belongings for her school robes to change into. She could hear movement from the other side of her curtain and she figured Ron was now up and getting dressed as well. How was she supposed to interpret _that_ look Ron gave her? Was he just embarrassed to see his best friend half-naked? 

Once she determined that she looked presentable enough, Hermione slid the curtain back again and saw that Ron’s curtains were still closed. “So, uhm, Harry is coming today,” she called out. 

“Yeah. It’ll be good to see him,” Ron’s muffled voice responded from behind the drapes. 

“We need to let him in on any information we have. If it’s at all possible they might let him come again, we need him to be prepared to bring us more intel. I mean, there has _got_ to be something about this mysterious potion in a book somewhere in the library.”

Ron’s curtains opened with a _swish_ and he smirked at her, making her stomach do backflips. “It’s just killing you that you can’t look it up, isn’t it?”

Hermione crossed her arms and considered debating his retort. “Knowledge is power, Ronald.”

He snorted. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” she chastised, moving her body closer to the clear barrier. Hermione watched as Ron instinctively pushed his own body forward until they were both standing directly in front of one another, only separated by a thin sheet of glass. “We don’t know what Hogwarts is trying to hide from us. After first year, second year, third year...how many secrets did we manage to uncover in the past? We _can’t_ stop trying until we know absolutely everything.”

"You're cute when you're bossy, you know that?" Ron blurted out with a teasing grin. His eyes went wide almost immediately. 

Hermione’s lips parted and she offered a surprised smile. _Now, what does he mean by that? I’m cute?_ “Uh-uh thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t mention it,” he quickly added before turning around to hide his face. She was certain that he was mortified.

Biting her lip, she took a chance. “Ron?” She waited until she received a hum in response, although she figured he wasn’t ready to try looking at her again yet. “I think you’re cute too when you get flustered.”

He whirled around and sputtered, “I’m...well I’m not…that’s completely off the point.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

Ron shrugged his shoulders lazily and offered a comment that bordered on a question. “...yeah?” His lips spread into a wide grin and she matched his smile with a small giggle. 

They were flirting. _They were flirting right?_ Hermione got a sudden thrill out of being in a confined space with Ron, selfishly relishing in the ability to have his complete and undivided attention. It seemed to be working, as he was softening around her and the majority of their conversations were relaxed. 

“Well, I suppose breakfast should be coming around soon…” Ron commented, seemingly eager to change the subject. Hermione rolled her eyes slightly and sat down on the floor in front of her cot, Potions book in hand. 

“Do you _ever_ think about anything other than food, Ron?” 

Ron pretended to consider her statement with a “hmm…” before grinning madly over at her. “Can’t think of much, no. Oh wait, there’s quidditch.”

_Of course,_ Hermione sighed inwardly. 

“And my family, I s’pose,” Ron continued. 

“Uh huh,” Hermione acknowledged, only half-listening now, as she attempted to locate her most recently bookmarked page. 

“And I can’t forget chocolate!” He added enthusiastically. 

Hermione glanced up again and pursed her lips. “Chocolate is considered a food, Ron.”

Ron snorted, “Yeah, yeah, okay sure. Oh well, I guess if I had to pick one more…” He paused and Hermione tilted her head slightly in anticipation. Ron was gazing directly at her now, a blazen look displayed on his face. “...I would say you. I think about you.”

The book Hermione was holding up dropped unceremoniously in her lap. She cleared her throat as she hastily moved to pick it back up and she felt Ron’s amused eyes on the top of her bowed head. “You okay over there?”

“What?” Hermione looked up distractedly, “Oh yeah, I’m-I’m fine. I’m sorry...did you just say, did just say that you think about me?”

“All the time,” he replied without hesitation. _When did he become so bold?_ “Do you...do you think about me?”

Hermione held her book close to her chest while chewing on her lip. “All the time.”

Ron seemed satisfied with her statement. “Good. Then it’s settled! We both think about each other.” 

Hermione laughed, “I guess it’s hard not to when we’re the only two in isolation together.”

Ron’s smile faltered a little bit. “Is that the only reason?”

_Is he disappointed?_ Regardless of how she would inevitably interpret his social cues, all she wanted was to see his radiating smile again. She hoped that her honesty would bring the light back to his face. “No...of course not! I...I would think about you even if we weren’t in here together.”

She observed Ron as he seemingly sighed out all of the tension in his shoulders. He then cocked his head sideways and peered over at her with suddenly peaked interest. “So...what do you think about when you, you know...think about me?” 

Hermione almost fell over at the way she noticed Ron waggle his eyebrows ever so slightly. Okay, _now_ he is _definitely_ flirting. Her cheeks suddenly felt very hot. “Oh, well..uhm...I suppose…” She rocked back and forth on her heels slightly. 

Ron began to chuckle. “Hermione Granger...at a loss for words? Now _that_ is new!” 

“I am not at a loss for words!” She pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You just didn’t let me finish!”

Ron waved a hand in front of him as if to gesture for her to continue, the smug grin still widely displayed on his face. He was _so_ tall, she observed, and she couldn’t stop staring at his large hands as he fiddled with his knuckles as he waited for her response. He looked _so good_ in his Hogwarts robes, she couldn’t help the shiver that traveled down her spine as she let the improper thoughts invade her mind. Shaking her head she sputtered out a response, “Well, I think about how I like your...hair.”

“My hair?” Ron questioned back, crossing his arms in disbelief. 

Hermione shyly raised and lowered her shoulders. “Yeah, I like that your hair is...red.”

“Yeah Hermione, and I like how your hair is brown,” he responded dully, a hint of sarcasm detected in his tone. 

“Don’t make fun!” She tapped the glass pane lightly as she glared at him. He tapped back at her while laughing hysterically. 

“Seriously though, my hair, really?” 

“ _Yes_ really, and you’ll do well by offering a thank you instead of just laughing in my face!” She fumed back, yet radiated with warmth as his eyes sparkled back at her. He was clearly enjoying her rant, evident by the cheesy grin on his face, that borderlined on mischievous. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He played it off cheerfully. She realized then, in that moment, that he had managed to completely distract her from the reality of the situation they were put in. _Only him._ It was incredible how effortlessly he was able to make her forget, even if just for a little bit. Her smile lowered on her face and Ron, as perceptive as ever, managed to notice right away. 

“You okay?” He asked instantly, eying her skeptically. 

She considered her words briefly, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear. “When I think of you I think about how you have this impeccable ability to make me laugh. To help me just...relax. I really needed that. Thank you.”

Hermione unmistakably heard Ron’s sharp inhale and he swallowed an audible chuckle. He let his hands trail up the glass barrier and linger for a beat before lowering back down to his side. “We’ll figure this all out, yeah?” He reassured her once more. “Besides, if we’re gonna make it through this without risk of me losing my head, I reckon I’ll need to keep thinking of ways to distract you…” There was no mistaking the playful way he was poking fun at her now. 

“Ron...f _you…_ ” She picked up a single shoe lying on the floor and chucked it at the window. Despite knowing that there was no way that she could’ve actually hit him with the clear divider between them, she laughed at how Ron still ducked to the floor, placing his hands defensively in front of his face. 

“Oi! Bloody hell, woman! I was joking!” 

“I know,” Hermione grinned in satisfaction, “I just wanted to see you squirm. After all, isn’t that what you try to do to me?”

Ron stood up again and looked incredulously over at her. “Well, I don’t throw _shoes_ at you, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

Hermione dissolved into a fit of laughter and Ron watched her closely for a moment before he joined in. Together, they laughed, clutching their stomachs. Hermione wasn’t even sure if she truly remembered why she was laughing in the first place, but it felt _good._

The doors from the infirmary opened suddenly, interrupting their giggles, as Madame Pomfrey appeared looking quite frazzled. “What in the world is going on here? I thought I heard a loud bang.”

Ron and Hermione’s eyes met nervously, both trying to actively _not_ glance down at the now forgotten shoe on the floor between them. “Nothing!” They both offered quickly, at the same exact time. 

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes at the two of them, but appeared to have let the conversation slide. “Let’s get you both set up with some breakfast.”

When Hermione gazed over at Ron once more, she could’ve swore that she saw him give her a sly wink. Her heart fluttered yet again. 

* * *

After their plates were cleared and their vitals had been checked, they were given the go-ahead for Harry’s visit. Ron and Hermione made small talk as they waited for Harry to arrive, both no longer in a joking mood as they eagerly anticipated the arrival of their best friend. 

“He is going to have so many questions…” Hermione murmured softly, tucking her knees up close to her chest. 

“I know. I s’pose we just tell him what we know. I mean, we don’t even know what _he_ knows yet...or Ginny…” Ron kept his eyes firmly on his trousers, his legs stretched out in front of him as he slumped against his cot. 

Hermione was prepared to offer him a supportive comment, the words on the tip of her tongue, when the doors opened again. Both of their heads swiveled instantly as Harry came into sight. He rushed forward and gawked at the isolation pods. 

“Mr. Potter? You have ten minutes…” Madame Pomfrey instructed sternly, before heading back out the door and shutting it behind her. 

“Harry!” Hermione called out. 

“What the hell is going on? What is this thing? How _are you_ guys?” Harry started to spew out a flurry of questions, his eyes darting back and forth between his two mates. 

“We’re fine, Harry,” Ron asserted calmly. “How are you? How’s Ginny?”

Harry nodded. “She’s good. We’re good. Now, I haven’t got a clue what’s going on with you, other than you were exposed to the potion. Do you know what it is?” 

Hermione shook her head dejectedly. “We know the name of it and some of the symptoms that could occur, that’s all. It’s called Imminisus Mortuous.”

Harry racked his brain, trying to think if it sounded familiar. “I don’t recall reading about that one. Ginny and I...we’ve been pouring over texts in the library, trying to figure out how we can help…” Hermione’s face brightened up as Harry said the word _library,_ Ron left snorting at her reaction. Harry pulled out a few books out of his bag. “Here, I brought you some. The potions book we looked at, as well as a couple of others that I thought might be interesting reads for you, Hermione.”

“Oh Harry, thank you!” Hermione leaned forward, trying to get a good look at the other titles. 

“But, er, I don’t suppose I can hand these over to you can I?” Harry pursed his lips as he studied the solidness of the clear glass. 

“Do you have your wand with you?” Ron asked. Harry pulled it from his pocket and held it up. “Try levitating the books directly through the barrier. It worked for Madame Pomfrey.”

Harry stacked the books on the floor before pointing his wand directly at the pile and raising his arm up slowly. The books floated lightly into the air and, surprisingly, glided right through the barrier into Hermione’s pod. “Brilliant!”

“It worked!” Hermione excitedly bounced up and down, grabbing ahold of the books in mid-air, clutching them tightly to her chest. 

“What’ve you done, mate?” Ron shook his head slowly, already mentally preparing himself to be ignored by Hermione for the rest of the day. 

Harry chuckled briefly before inquiring, “What about Professor Slughorn? No one has seen him since the start of term.”

Ron and Hermione shared a silent look before Ron murmured, “Slughorn, he’s...he’s in bad shape, Harry. At St. Mungo’s.”

Hermione continued, “It seems as if his effects to the potion were immediate. Large rashes on his body and he is fighting an infection, apparently. We were told this yesterday, although we haven’t been updated today. In fact, Professor McGonagall hasn’t visited us at all today…” It was curious. How the professor had seemingly disappeared after coming to check in on them several times a day previously. 

“I’ll see if I can track her down after I leave here,” Harry offered. “Do you...do you think you could start showing similar symptoms?” 

“We’re not sure,” Hermione glumly answered. “I think it’s possible that since we are quite a bit younger than Professor Slughorn and our immune systems are stronger, we may not show any effects at all.”

“Imminisus Mortuous. I’ll keep searching. Ginny and I...we won’t stop looking for more information for you,” Harry stared determinedly over at his two grateful friends. 

“Harry,” Hermione started once more, the urgency displayed in her tone, “We _need_ to know that if symptoms were to occur, that we can treat it. And how.” 

Harry opened his mouth to respond when the doors burst open, all too soon. “I’m sorry Mr. Potter, but time is up. You must head back to your tower now,” Madame Pomfrey chastely interjected. 

Harry looked desperately at the pair once more, an unspoken agreement already between them. “Just...take care of each other, yeah?”

“We’ll see you soon, Harry,” Ron gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Harry knew he had a lot of research to do. 

* * *

“Harry James Potter!”

Harry came to a screeching halt in the corridor and slowly turned to face a rather furious Ginny, who was rushing towards him, her hair wildly flying back behind her. 

“Ouch - middle name Gin, really?” He muttered, actively attempting to avoid the growing stares from the students around them. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed out, “Oh please, like the whole wizarding world doesn’t already know your full name.”

_She has a point there._ He immediately held up his hands in defense, “I know what you are going to ask me and they’re doing fine.”

Ginny opened her mouth to speak when a fifth year Gryffindor came running up and interrupted her train of thought. "Hey Ginny, I was wondering if you had the notes for…"

"Not now, Dave!" Ginny waved the student off hurriedly, before grasping Harry's arm and pulling him down the corridor. Harry threw his head back to offer a quick apologetic glance back to Dave, who stood there dejectedly, just before they rounded the corner out of sight. 

“What did you find out?” Ginny asked impatiently once they were alone in an empty classroom. 

“They’re fine. They’re doing okay, no symptoms,” Harry said, watching as Ginny sighed in relief. 

“And did you get any information on the potion?” Harry smiled inwardly at Ginny’s persistence. 

“Yeah. It’s called Imminisus Mortuous. Apparently the symptoms include a rash and a highly contagious infection.”

Ginny’s eyebrows crinkled. “I don’t think we read about that one…”

“We didn’t,” Harry frowned. “I left Hermione with the books we took a look through yesterday, if anyone can piece it together, it would be her.”

“Well,” Ginny stood up promptly, grabbing Harry’s hand tightly, “I think it’s time for us to get back into the library, isn’t it?”

_This woman is truly amazing._ Harry gave their joined hands a squeeze, “You’ve read my mind again, Gin.”

  
  


* * *

Unsurprisingly, Hermione had spent the rest of the afternoon with her head buried in the potions book, searching for anything that resembled a connection to Imminisus Mortuous. She groaned outwardly after her third attempt at scouring the pages. “Nothing, I can’t believe it. How could they not have _anything_ about it in a section clearly labeled as _dangerous and illegal?_ It’s just irresponsible!”

“Maybe you should take a break, I think dinner should be arriving soon,” Ron attempted to relax her, risking the glare that she certainly sent his way. 

“I can’t take a break, Ron. I’ve got too much to think about,” she returned her attention to the words on the page as he blinked back in annoyance. “Maybe if I just found out how to interpret the name…”

Ron's face brightened at her latest admission. "Oh, what about the Latin book that Harry brought? Didn't you say once that many potions are created from older forms as words, such as those originated in Latin?" 

Hermione gasped. "Ron, you're brilliant!"

He merely shrugged. "I'm just reciting what you told me last year."

"That's right - I did." They shared pleased expressions before she reached over for the described book. She flipped through the pages, which were organized alphabetically. 

Her eyes lit up as her finger paused on a word. "Here it is! Imminisus is derived from the Latin form meaning 'imminent', something that is about to happen." 

Ron knitted his eyebrows together as he considered the definition. "That makes sense. And...mortuous?" 

Hermione flipped through the pages until her fingers found the section of words beginning with "m". _Mortuous, mortuous, mortuous..._

There it was. As soon as she read the words her body stilled and she felt as if she had lost all ability to breathe. 

"Hermione," she faintly heard Ron call out. "Hermione, _tell me._ What is it?" 

"Mortuous," she murmured in a low voice. With a gulp, she continued, "Comes from the Latin form of 'mortem'. Meaning death or destruction." 

Ron paled in color and Hermione lifted her head to meet Ron's eyes grimly. 

"Imminent Death. That's the name of the potion."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Happy Sunday all! As a thank you to all the lovely reviewers out there, here is chapter seven :) I seem to be on a writing spree this weekend! This chapter is one of my favorites, and I sincerely hope you all enjoy. Cheers!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Hermione felt rather dizzy, consumed with an overwhelming fear that had been buried deep in her soul, now threatening to bubble over the surface. _Imminent Death._ What did that mean for Professor Slughorn, who was currently battling a serious infection in the hospital? What did this mean for her and for...for _Ron._

She sought out his eyes and found those familiar, piercing blue orbs staring back at her. The sparkle behind them that she saw earlier was now gone, replaced by a mixture of apprehension and darkness, matching his stiff composure. 

“We don’t _know_ yet that it means…” Ron offered weakly, but trailed off when he could not find a compelling argument. 

“We don’t know yet that it means _what?_ ” She seethed back in response. “That we’re going to…”

“Don’t,” Ron hissed out. 

A tense silence filled the air and Hermione’s stomach churned painfully. The longer she sat in total solitude with Ron, lacking words to say to each other, the more her blood started to boil in anger. The list of questions she already had regarding the potion was growing and, for the love of everything, she was determined to find some answers. 

Standing up abruptly, waking Ron from his almost-slumber, she marched over to the side of the glass barrier in her pod closest to the infirmary doors and proceeded to bang incessantly against the glass.

“Hermione! What are you doing?” Ron shouted at her as he scrambled to his feet.

“Getting some answers,” she answered through gritted teeth, continuing to pound her fists rapidly on the cool glass. 

“Bloody hell woman, the whole castle is going to hear you!” 

Moments later, the double doors burst open and revealed a rather flustered Madame Pomfrey, with Professor McGonagall hot on her heels. “Miss Granger, what is the meaning of all of this?” The professor called out in astonishment, looking around the room quickly to observe for any signs of trouble. Judging by the blazing look on Hermione’s face, there was certainly about to be some trouble. 

“We know that Imminisus Mortuous means Imminent Death,” she watched as McGonagall stepped back slightly in surprise. “What does that mean for _us_?”

“Miss Granger…” Professor McGonagall exhaled shakily, her voice low and calm. 

“ _Please,_ be honest with us,” Hermione desperately interjected, her hands now pressed firmly against the glass as she waited. 

The professor eyed Ron for a moment, who looked just as eager, before nodding. “Very well. Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, we’d like to reiterate that this is very old magic, very old magic indeed. This potion has not knowingly been re-created in centuries and how exactly an old bottle ended up on school grounds...we are just not certain. However, I do apologize for keeping you in the dark. We simply wanted to gather more information before we presented it all outright to you both.”

Professor McGonagall paused in her explanation to pace the room a few strides before beginning again, “What we know now, is how symptoms may naturally present, as mentioned to you before. For previously recorded cases, it is also common for those who exhibit active symptoms to experience a blockage or disruption of blood flow, essentially stopping or slowing down the process of producing blood or blood components within one’s body. The loss of blood or the ability to produce blood can present with dire consequences. At that point, a blood transfusion would be deemed necessary.”

Hermione’s heart sank as she took in McGonagall’s words. So many questions still swirled around in her mind. 

“Professor?” She heard Ron inquire first, “What would happen with the blood... _transfusion_ , you said? How would that work? Would we need to receive blood from a relative?”

“Not exactly, Mr. Weasley. Essentially the recipient of a blood transfusion would be given blood from a healthy donor and, fortunately, St. Mungo’s has an extensive supply of blood on hand already and more donor volunteers at the ready if needed.”

Hermione felt slightly relieved knowing that it seemed a plan was already in place in the event that her or Ron started to develop symptoms. Her question list was decreasing. “And what about Professor Slughorn? How is he doing? Has he received a transfusion already?”

The professor shared a quick glance with Madame Pomfrey, who stepped in to answer this question. “Professor Slughorn is currently still in critical care. His infection has seemingly spread throughout his body and he is not responding to medically-enhanced potions given. A transfusion was completed this morning, but it is too soon to tell...too soon to tell if his body will process the new blood given.”

“What would happen if the professor does not respond to the treatments?” Ron slowly asked. 

Professor McGonagall had a way of remaining completely stoic and well-spoken throughout the entire conversation, however it was hard not to spot the wave of emotion that flashed across her face before she quickly recomposed herself. “In all honesty, Mr. Weasley, we are not quite sure. We are remaining hopeful that it won’t come to that.”

“But if it _does?_ ” Hermione urged on. 

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips and stepped forward. “If it does, then we put our trust in the healers at St. Mungo’s. Professor Slughorn is receiving excellent care there, please trust that.” Hermione’s muscles clenched as the pit of her stomach dropped. _They don’t know what will happen._

“Now, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, how are you feeling? Anything at all we should be aware about or concerned for?” Madame Pomfrey gazed over at the pair expectantly. When she received a mutual head shake back, she bobbed her head in satisfaction. “Very good. Healer Stein will return tomorrow morning to check in on your vitals once more. I will be back in about an hour with your supper.”

Without any last words, both of the adults exited the room, leaving Ron and Hermione to revel in their ability to experience a series of emotions in a single conversation. 

“What a bunch of cryptic nonsense,” Ron muttered out as he kicked at the floor angrily. 

Hermione barely heard him, too far dissolved in the frantic fear that had washed over her. She felt as if she was drowning in a fast-moving current, without any ideas of how to stay above the surface. She let her body crumble to the floor, her heart racing within her chest, her breaths slowing down as she struggled to maintain control over her shaky limbs. Hermione’s vision became cloudy and she let her palms slide around clumsily on the floor, searching for any object close by to help steady her. 

“Hermione... _Hermione!”_ She faintly heard Ron calling out to her. She blinked a few times in rapid succession until her vision cleared and Ron’s terrified face came into view. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I-I don't…I don’t know…” She inhaled sharply, bordering on hyperventilation. Her eyes shifted around the room, which now seemed to be moving in and out of focus as if she were on a rocking boat.

"Hermione...Hermione, look at me," Ron pleaded, "Right at me."

With blurry eyes, Hermione attempted to refocus on the spot of red off in the distance. He was walking closer now, not stopping until he couldn’t go any further. “Come to the glass, you’ve got it, over here.” He continued to guide her with his voice and Hermione crawled on her hands and knees until she reached the barrier limits. Her trembling hand lifted off the ground and found the glass to provide her a stable base for her to then concentrate on shifting all of her attention to Ron’s facial features, which were appearing more clearly as she batted her eyes. 

She met Ron’s intense gaze and he continued to speak calmly and slowly to her, "Take a deep breath in, _no,_ keep your eyes focused on me, that's it. Breathe in slowly…”, he watched Hermione’s chest rise, “...good, now breathe out. Now do it again. That's it." Hermione kept her irises locked on Ron’s, her chest heaving up and down, sporadically at first, but eventually slowing into a natural rhythm. 

Ron flattened his palm against the glass to mirror hers momentarily, before pulling back and demonstrating a new strategy. Hermione watched closely as he folded his arms around his own shoulders. "Now give yourself a big squeeze, wrap your arms tight...pretend that...pretend that I have my arms around you and I'm holding you tight.” _Oh,_ how Hermione’s heart lurched at that sentiment, craving the feel of his body pressed against her own. She mimicked his movements, closing her eyes as she imagined the warmth of his embrace. “Good. Now take another deep breath. Watch me." Her eyelids fluttered open again, eyes sticking like glue to Ron’s, observing as their chests both moved in sync with each other. She felt her heart rate slowing and the dizziness fading. 

After about a minute more, Hermione released her arms and tentatively touched the glass, keeping her gaze firmly on Ron as she smiled softly. "Thank you, Ron."

He tapped the glass lightly and offered her a small smile back. "Don't mention it. You feeling better? There’s about a half full glass of water on your table over there if you need it.”

_I am so in love with him._ Hermione felt like the literal sight of Ron and the softness of his tone right now would actually make her heart explode with affection. “How do you manage to stay so calm? Meanwhile, I’m over here a blubbering mess, having a full blown panic attack.”

Ron’s soothing voice responded, “Hey, your reaction is completely normal, yeah? There was a lot of information to take in. Besides, I’m feeling a lot of things too that I’m not even sure how to process…” He shook his head, breaking their gaze briefly, before looking up at her shyly, his long, auburn hair now falling messily in front of his brow, “...but you needed me first. My own feelings can wait.”

“You’re incredible,” she whispered breathlessly. Hermione watched adoringly as the tips of his ears burned a deep red color. She tilted her head so that it now rested against the glass, falling into a comfortable position with her knees curled to her chest. 

Ron never took his eyes off of her, following her movements closely. He cleared his throat and grinned. "I like you like this. I mean, I like you all the time. But especially like this, when your walls come down and you are relaxed." 

_He likes me._ A funny feeling attached itself to the lining in her stomach. "I honestly don't know what I would do if you weren't here, Ron. I mean that, truly. We may row like crazy sometimes, but, you just have this impeccable ability to notice when I need to slow down or...or, I guess like you said. _Relax."_ She emphasized the last word with a playful smirk before letting her chin fall to her knees. "I think we compliment each other very well. I let you know when you're being a pain in the arse and need to focus more on studying, and you let me know when I need to slow down and take a break from it all."

He chuckled and grinned so broadly that she wondered if his cheeks hurt. "Yeah...I suppose we do, don't we?" 

After a few quiet moments, Hermione tentatively asked, "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you too." She bit her lip slightly as she shyly smiled over at him, chin still touching her knees. 

Ron sat up straighter and Hermione enjoyed seeing his eyes light up with surprise, "You-you like me?"

"Yes." 

"I mean, you like me as in you would like a friend? Like the same as Harry?"

"Not the same as Harry."

"Not the same. _Not the same,"_ he mumbled, looking down briefly, before his head shot up again and he made direct eye contact with her, "What does that mean?" 

"It just means...I like you in a different way, that's all."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…"

Hermione shook her head in annoyance. " _Ron!_ "

He laughed out loud. "What?"

"You're teasing me again…"

He continued to display that lop-sided boyish grin that Hermione loved so much. "Oh hush, I am not. Just trying to figure you out for once, which isn't bleeding likely to happen, by the way." 

Hermione hesitated momentarily before responding. "Anything you want to know, just ask me."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Really? Anything?" 

That question earned him another eye roll. "Yes, Ronald, anything." 

Ron crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at her, challenging her. She gulped audibly in anticipation for what he might ask. "Okay then. Tell me all the ways that I am a different friend to you than Harry is."

_Oh bugger._ "Well, for starters, Harry doesn't really indulge me when I feel up for debating a topic. For example, if I were to go on and on about the meaning of, say _spattergroit,_ Harry would likely get impatient with me and make an excuse to leave at some point. Whereas you would probably argue with me, or at least tell me I'm being nutty for thinking too much."

Ron snorted. "Meaning of spattergroit? Best you could come up with?"

Hermione stared pointedly back at him. "Do you want to hear my answers or not?"

Ron held up his hands, "Okay, okay sorry, continue."

" _As I was saying,_ you challenge me. You aren't afraid to tell me when I'm wrong or working too hard. You also seem to be one of the only people...probably the only person at Hogwarts...that consistently notices when something is up with me. Remember third year, all those classes I was taking? You were constantly badgering me about how I wasn't sleeping or eating enough." 

"Yeah, cause your classload was bloody mental!" He interrupted again and she glared over at him, an obvious indicator for him to clamp his mouth shut. 

"And, finally…while I am a, you know, girl," Hermione watched as Ron's face curiously flushed at her statement, "you've never made me feel like I can't do something or be apart of the team so to speak with you and Harry. Well, aside from that brief month before the troll." Hermione smiled faintly at the memory. 

When she met Ron's eyes once more, he was looking at her now with an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to be studying her quizzically, as he often did, looking for ways to figure her out, as if she were a really complicated puzzle that needed solving. 

Wanting to know what was going on in his head, she blurted out, "So what about you? Why don't you tell me all the ways I am a different friend to you than Harry." 

Ron coughed lightly. "Uh...uhm…" She thought it was adorably cute how flustered he was becoming. "For starters, Harry doesn't make me trip over my speech so much, which can be really bloody annoying sometimes."

"Tripping over your speech, you say? How come?" Hermione feigned ignorance. She smiled cheekily over at him. 

"Oi! If I can't interrupt you, you can't interrupt me, yeah?" He waited until he received her nod in agreement before continuing, "Anyway, it's not just 'cause you are a girl. Believe me, I've known that since…" He blushed profusely and decided to re-route his sentence, "You have this way of driving me absolutely crazy, yet...sometimes I lay down in bed and…"

"...and what?" Hermione encouraged on, breathlessly. 

"And think about you," he admitted, meeting her eyes with uncertainty, "I don't usually lay in bed thinking about Harry."

Sirens were raging through Hermione's head. _He thinks about me in bed. He thinks about me in bed._ Her body felt electrified, as if Ron's words were quite literally sending sparks down her spine. 

"I like hearing you laugh," Ron continued on softly, "your laugh makes me laugh and smile and forget all of the bad stuff for a bit." 

_Thump thump._ Her heart was beating forcefully against her chest. "I like hearing your laugh too," she agreed. 

And then, a moment passed between them, almost as if a wave of relief washed over them. They seemed to be on the same page, both allowing themselves to be freely vulnerable, yet still maintaining the shy awkwardness that came with their admissions. 

"Yeah, it's hard not to think of all the bad in the world sometimes, but you help. You make it all better," Hermione hoarsely allowed herself to say, despite feeling slightly morose. 

Ron noticed the change in her demeanor and pointed a finger at her, "No. No negativity talk. Only positive, happy thoughts right now!" He chastised. 

Hermione's lips curled upward at his demand. "Positivity, right. Well, what would be the first thing you would do? When we get out of these chambers, I mean." 

Ron considered her question for a beat before he smirked. "I'd grab the biggest bacon sandwich I could find."

"I'm serious!" She admonished, laughing somewhat. 

Regarding her question more seriously, he replied, "Well, I'd probably want to celebrate with you. Maybe cheers to staying alive with a nice, cold glass of butterbeer?" 

"Yes, that sounds lovely…" Hermione agreed, now daydreaming about looking into Ron's eyes as they clinked glasses. It almost sounded like a _date._ The thrill of anticipation drove her to be bold with her next ask. "Would you give me a hug?"

Ron's eyes softened. "Of course. Would you hug me back?"

"Of course. I'd squeeze you real tight too as you coached me earlier, you know, just as a thank you for not dying."

Ron beamed. "I'd probably get a good whiff of your hair too. Not sure I remember what you smell like."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in amusement. "You knew what I smelled like before?" 

Ron shrugged passively. "Well...yes. I'm around you all the time, aren't I?" He continued on, "I would...I would probably dig my hands into your curls too, just for good measure." 

Hermione felt like drooling as she imagined his fingers threading through her hair, barely stopping herself from omitting a small moan out of desire. "They'd probably get lost in there with all the bushiness." 

"Nah, I bet it would feel nice. Your hair just always looks so...soft." His eyes glazed over and he stared off at a spot behind Hermione's head. 

"I like the length of your hair," Hermione offered as she let her eyes travel over his deep red strands, "It looks perfect for raking my hands through it." 

"Oh yeah?" Ron kinked an eyebrow coolly. He was definitely feeling a burst of confidence from her compliment. 

"Yeah," Hermione grinned back. 

"What else would you wanna do?" Hermione wasn't sure if he meant different ways to celebrate or...

"Would you touch me?" Hermione opened and closed her mouth shut quickly. _Where the hell did that come from? Yes of course he would touch you, Hermione, he just said he would hug you, didn't he?_

"Yes." His response was immediate. 

"Wh-where?"

"Quite literally anywhere that you would allow," he expressed earnestly. 

_Be bold, be brave._ Hermione held her chin up high. "Would you - would you kiss me?"

Ron's lips parted and mouth moved to form a response when the door opened widely and Madame Pomfrey walked in, carrying two plates of food. She stilled when she noticed the startled expressions on the pair of faces before her. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley? Everything alright?"

_Bloody fucking hell._

* * *

Dinner was quiet and Hermione was acutely aware of the fact that Ron didn't provide an answer to her question. She wondered, at this point, if he ever intended to, as he was doing quite an excellent job of avoiding her gaze right now. Silently chiding herself, she couldn't _believe_ the question she asked. She figured that she had misinterpreted his signals. That him admitting that she was a "different" friend to him was just that. Being a different _friend._

They silently moved around the room in preparation for bed immediately following supper, and it seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't converse any further. Still, Hermione left her curtains open as she crawled underneath her covers, looking pleased as Ron did the same. She felt comforted by the fact that she would still be able to see his presence, mild anxiety from the revelations earlier starting to creep back in. 

Hermione wrapped the thick blanket around her tightly and shifted onto her side, facing Ron, although keeping her eyes closed as she prepared to fall asleep.

"Hermione?" She heard Ron whisper at last. Her eyes blinked open tiredly and met his, not expecting the next words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I would kiss you."

She just barely caught the gasp that escaped from her lips as her body flushed with warmth from the desirous look he was giving her. "I'd actually probably snog you into next year if you'd let me," he chuckled to himself quietly, pursing his lips as he studied her face. _He would kiss me. He likes me._ "Is that - is that okay to say?"

"It's more than okay," Hermione whispered, smiling to herself while tucking the blanket around herself tighter.

"Wicked," A very _Ron_ response, as she imagined him smiling in the darkness. 

  
This time Hermione fell asleep with one arm outstretched in Ron’s direction, as he did the same. It was almost as if they were holding hands, both settled at ease by the fact that their feelings were heard and reciprocated. _Finally._


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. 
> 
> A/N: Happy Wednesday all! Thank you, as always, for the splendid reads and reviews. Enjoy :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Hermione had never been more excited to wake up before. She was still reeling from Ron’s confession the night before. _He said he would kiss me. He said he would kiss ME._ She positively would’ve never guessed that an isolation pod would be what pushed them over the edge, pushed them to explore a new area of their relationship. 

Hermione sat up suddenly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the room that remained in slight darkness despite the sun starting to peek through the windows at the highest points on the walls. 

A slight jolt of pain shot through her body and Hermione visibly winced. Perhaps she sat up too quickly? The pain was gone almost instantaneously and was soon forgotten as she refocused her attention on the ginger-haired man across the way, still snoring softly on his cot.

Hermione stretched and yawned, standing up slowly to pad her feet over to her trunk, sifting through it to find a fresh pair of clothes. Buried at the bottom of the trunk was her Hogwarts skirt. Her fingers lingered on the fabric and she considered how Ron would react once he saw her wearing it. It _was_ mid-winter, and she would likely be more comfortable wearing pants while in isolation, but she grabbed the skirt quickly before she could change her mind. She closed her curtains around her cot and changed hastily, proceeding to brush her teeth and use the necessary facilities before running a hand through her bushy mane. She wasn’t completely satisfied by her appearance once looking at her reflection through the clear glass barrier. However, she figured that before today in isolation, she didn’t particularly care what she looked like in front of Ron. _And he still wants to kiss me, right?_

Shrugging to herself, she pulled open the curtains to reveal a now-awake Ron, who was sitting up on his bed looking quite dazed. She giggled softly at the sight, as it was apparent that he still wasn’t fully alert yet. His hair stuck up from different points around his head and his shirt was incredibly wrinkled. 

“Hey there, whatareyoulaughingat?” He mumbled almost incoherently, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“How was your rest, sleeping beauty?” Hermione teased. 

“Oi!” He snapped back, likely prepared to retort, however his eyes fixed on a new location as his mouth fell open. Hermione looked down and blushed profusely as she realized he had just noticed that she was wearing her skirt. She sat on her bed and crossed her legs nervously. 

Hermione didn’t have time to think of a plan for acknowledging his staring, before the doors opened, revealing Madam Pomfrey and the healer. “Oh good, you two are awake! Healer Stein is here bright and early this morning to assist. Let’s check your vitals and then I will see about fetching some breakfast for the two of you.”

Hermione scrambled to her feet, smoothing out her skirt, before walking close to the barrier facing the healers. She could feel Ron’s eyes on her as she moved, leaving her with a sense of satisfaction that her plan to garner his attention with the skirt had worked. 

Healer Stein addressed Ron first, holding her wand up to do another full body scan. He stood completely still, already familiar with the daily routine. The healer looked pleased by his results, jotting down a few notes on her piece of parchment before moving over to Hermione. After her scan, however, Hermione’s heart sank as she didn’t exactly get the same pleased look. “Miss Granger...your levels are still within normal limits, however they seem to have dipped in some areas.”

Hermione briefly averted her eyes to look at Ron, who had an unreadable expression on his face. “Meaning?”

“Nothing to worry about dear, could be a multitude of factors there. I will keep a close eye on you. Just let me know if you experience anything out of the ordinary, yes?” The healer attempted to reassure her, but in the back of her mind she was thinking, _this is the start._

The healer spouted off a few additional words that, admittedly, Hermione wasn’t fully listening to. Before she even realized it, the healer and Madam Pomfrey were both exiting the room again. 

“Hermione-”

“Don’t.”

Ron let out a heavy sigh. “It’s alright, y’know. For you to be concerned.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Ron rolled his eyes, but didn’t say any more, quite certain she wouldn’t want to hear it. Madam Pomfrey returned a few minutes later with their breakfast and Hermione felt grateful for the interruption. Although her stomach felt queasy and the food looked less than desirable, she forced herself to at least nibble on her scone and take sips of her pumpkin juice. 

They chewed together in silence for a bit, before Hermione felt comfortable meeting Ron’s gaze again, which she had determined never really left her. He had a contemplative look on his face and she braced herself for what he could be thinking. She didn’t have long to debate in her mind before she heard Ron’s voice call out,

"So you really do...like me, like _that?"_ Oh, they were going _there_ now. Hermione shifted anxiously in her placement on the floor, her bare legs stretched and crossed outward in front of her. 

"I suppose I've known it on some level since…" Her voice trailed off into a squeaky whisper, "Second year." Hermione attempted to gauge Ron's reaction, which appeared to be a mixture of shock and disbelief. "See, I know, it's silly…"

"Actually," Ron interrupted, "I was going to say that we're both bloody idiots."

"Excuse me?"

Ron chuckled with a shake of his head, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. "Second year...sounds about right for me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah." 

Their eyes danced together for several moments, both attempting to process their admissions. Ron started, "I mean, I think back to when you were petrified. I was in the infirmary sitting next to you day after day...sometimes, hell, sometimes I would even read to you Hermione. Part of me was always hoping that you would suddenly wake up and chime in about a certain section or tell me off for not reading fast enough for you…" Hermione snorted, although secretly admitting to herself that she probably would've done just that. 

"Then there was one day that I was sitting with you. I reached out to touch your hand. It was so cold. Lifeless. I vowed to myself after that, I vowed that when you woke up, I would make sure I got a chance to feel the warmth in your hands again." Tears flooded her eyes and she offered him the faintest smile. _Oh sweet merlin, help me._

Ron took a deep breath before continuing, "Then third year came along. I saw you at the Leaky at summer's end...and _blimey_ , Hermione. Everything changed for me. You were…"

"A girl?" 

Ron gave her a moody look, "I knew you were a girl already. I just meant that, I was nervous as hell around you. I was so afraid that I would bump into your hand by accident, or that you would catch me staring at you in the common room…” His voice trailed off as his face flushed red. 

Hermione figured that his silence left enough of a pause for her to step in. "That was the year of the Scabbers and Crookshanks disaster."

Ron visibly winced. "Yeah...m'sorry about all that."

Hermione crossed her legs like a pretzel in front of her, sitting up straighter. "Honestly, I think it just made me realize that I was too afraid to lose you. I mean, my best friend wasn't speaking to me for half the year just because we were in a stupid argument. I thought that if I admitted to you, and to myself, how I truly felt about you, that it would completely ruin our friendship entirely. Besides, I was pretty certain you despised me at one point. I figured there was no way you could ever see me like, well, _this._ " 

Ron stared at her in awe. "Wow, you were so wrong...for once."

She glared back at him. "We were _both_ wrong, mind you. Do we even have to get started with fourth year? Yule Ball? You know I would've gone with you if you'd have just-"

"Asked. I know. And part of me should've realized then that maybe, just maybe, you actually _did_ feel at least something for me. I didn't speak to you for a bit afterwards, not because I was angry at you, but because I was embarrassed for myself. I let my stupid robes get in the way and I honestly didn't feel worthy enough to have you as my date." He held up a hand as he saw Hermione's mouth move to protest, "I know, I know. You would've gone with me anyway. But at the time I didn't recognize that. I had a pretty cruddy night 'cause of my own insecurities."

"And I also guess it was quite unfair of me to have assumed that you _knew_ I wanted you to ask me," Hermione mumbled in realization. 

"Even if I did, I honestly don't know what I would've done. I don't think I was fully ready to…"

"Yeah, I get it. Me too." They were both so young. _Still were._ The idea of being completely open with Ron right now completely terrified her, but he seemed to be receptive to the conversation and that pushed her to continue on. "Then it was fifth year…"

Ron smiled over at her fondly. "Probably our best year at Hogwarts together, I'd say. We hardly ever rowed last year!" 

Hermione bit her lip thinking back to last year, choosing her words carefully for her next apology. "I really was excited that you were a prefect Ron, honestly. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise."

Ron’s face faltered slightly, but he held his chin up and nodded over at her. "I'm not so sure the thought of you thinking Harry was the obvious choice was entirely what bothered me...I think part of it too was thinking you would've _preferred_ Harry. That perhaps you would've had more fun doing rounds with him…" Ron paused and looked down at his clasped hands in his lap. 

Hermione cleared her throat to get Ron’s attention. Once his head had raised to meet her eyes, she sincerely added, "Harry is great, but doing rounds with _you_ Ron...it was the best part of my year." 

Ron beamed, the light on his face sending her body into a frenzied tailspin. "Mine too." 

Hermione's smile faded, her expression morphing into pensiveness. "What went wrong this year, Ron?" 

He sighed outwardly, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading. "I wouldn't say this _whole_ year has been complete shite…"

Hermione couldn't help but agree with him there, judging by how amazing their relationship currently was. "Well, yes, but the first half of it wasn't particularly great."

"Listen…" Ron began softly, avoiding her gaze, "I...I should've never kissed Lavender. I just did it because I thought I needed to prove something."

"Prove _what?"_ Hermione urged further. 

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "That I was worthy of being snogged I guess. I just felt like I was the only one around who hadn't yet, I mean you, Harry, and Ginny all had already…" 

Hermione pursed her lips, knowing he was referring to her very, _very_ chaste kiss with Krum that most definitely didn't count as a _snog._

"It was stupid, I know. Believe me, I realized it right away. And, judging by those birds you sent at me, I reckon I hurt you. And I'm sorry." The expression on Ron's face was very earnest and Hermione suddenly felt guilty subjecting him to physical harm. 

"You're sorry? I think I'm the one who hurt _you._ I'm so embarrassed for the way I acted with the canaries, I was just…" Hermione hesitated. 

"Go on, I want to know," Ron pleaded. 

"I thought we had it all figured out, you know? I had invited you to Slughorn's party, I _thought_ we were going together. So seeing you kiss Lavender, it just...caught me by surprise, I guess." 

Ron tilted his head slightly as he kept his eyes focused on a spot just above her head. "No offense Hermione, but I think you could compare your invitation to the party with mine from the Yule Ball. Not very clear at all." 

"Really? Cause I distinctly remember asking you directly to go to the party with me! Unlike your invitation of, o _h you're a girl, come with one of us!"_ She mocked him using a deep voice. 

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Fine, if that's how you wanna play it! How was I supposed to know you meant for me to go with you as anything other than a friend? Honestly Hermione, I felt like it was a pity invite. I thought that you felt bad for me 'cause you and Harry were part of this fancy club that I couldn't be in." 

Hermione felt herself drowning into an increasingly large pile of guilt. "Ron, I-"

"Forget it," he muttered angrily, crossing his arms. 

_No._ She was not going to lose what they had been building just because of some silly little misunderstanding. "Ron, would you just _listen?"_ She huffed out. "I realize now how my invite could've been taken out of pity, but I assure you it was not. You are the _only person_ I considered asking. The only person who I actually _wanted_ to go with. It took a lot for me to work up the courage to ask you, which apparently I didn't even do very well." 

The tension in Ron's arms visibly softened. "Really?"

"Yes _, really_ ," Hermione responded, slightly exasperated. 

"W-well," Ron stammered out, "Okay then."

"Okay," Hermione confirmed. _That was it_. They had finally left it all out in the open and Hermione now understood the meaning of the saying, _wear your heart on your sleeve._

Unsure of where to go from here, they sat silently in mutual awkwardness for quite some time. There was a question that Hermione was itching to ask and she through all caution to the wind. “I have one more ‘would you rather’ question for you…would you rather be kissed by Lavender or by me?”

Although Ron looked surprised by her question, he didn’t hesitate to respond, “You. Definitely you.”

"But, you haven't even kissed me yet. How would you even know…"

"I don't _have_ to have kissed you already to know," Ron cut her off firmly. "Trust me."

Although looking quite pleased by his answer, Hermione still wasn't expecting the rebuttal. “Would you rather be kissed by Krum...or by me?”

“You. Definitely you.”

They both smiled and laughed, suddenly feeling bashful from their declarations.

“So after that long-winded confessional...you still want to kiss me?” Hermione lifted up her head hopefully, somewhat startled by the way Ron was already staring at her adamantly. 

“Hermione, I think it’s entirely possible that I want to kiss you even _more_ now.”

* * *

Day Four. It was day four of searching through textbook after textbook in the library and they were nowhere near closer to finding any information on the potion that Ron and Hermione were exposed to. Madam Pince was very obviously growing tired of seeing Harry and Ginny's faces appear promptly after the conclusion of classes for the day. 

"I don't think I've ever seen the two of you in the library more than twice a year until now," Harry recalled her mumbling not-so-quietly under her breath yesterday. 

Harry slammed his latest book sharply closed on the table, making Ginny jump from her seated position across the table.

He winced. "Sorry. I just can't keep looking through the same books over and over again. I think it's driving me mental." 

Ginny made a motion as if she was going to pull her hair out. "You're telling me."

Harry rubbed the crease in his forehead aggressively, racking his brain for ideas of what to possibly try next. A sudden thought flashed through his mind and Ginny took notice right away. 

"What is it? What are you thinking about?" 

Harry stood up promptly, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and grabbing Ginny's books for her. "Come on, there's something I need to get first."

Two hours later and about twenty minutes after curfew, the pair found themselves back at the double doors in front of the library, both huddled together underneath the familiar silk of the invisibility cloak. 

"I'm trusting that you know what you're doing here, Potter," Ginny grumbled out from his side. Harry was used to having someone else with him underneath the cloak, as Hermione and Ron both were several times, but with Ginny...his heart pounded so loud in his chest that he was certain she could hear it due to her close proximity. 

Placing a finger to his lips, Harry quietly opened one door and guided them inside, taking a careful peek around to ensure that nobody was around. Once they determined that they were completely alone in the darkness, Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and murmured, "Lumos". The tip of his wand ignited light, helping them as they weaved their way in between tables and walls lined with shelves and shelves of books. They continued on until they reached the back section of the room, coming to a complete stop in front of the chain with a sign that read " _Restricted Section. No Students Allowed"._

Harry reached out of the cloak with the tip of his wand pushing through the chain divider, effectively assuring that there had been no charms placed on the area. "Alright then," he whispered, "We're going to have to climb over the chains. I'll go first, you hold onto the back of the cloak tight. Once I'm over, I'll help you too, we've just got to make sure we don't snag the ends of the cloak." Harry proceeded to move exactly how he had prefaced, holding his hand out once he was over for a Ginny to take, which she did wordlessly, just before hopping effortlessly over the chains. Harry was impressed by how smoothly she accepted the challenge and smirked as she started to continue on towards the dusty shelves, paying no mind to his drooling. 

"We're looking for Imminisus Mortuous right?" Harry confirmed Ginny's inquiry with a nod of his head, eyes scanning the rows of books placed alphabetically. They found the section of books beginning with the letter "I". After a few minutes of searching, Ginny gasped as she plucked a large red book from the shelves. " _Here! Look!"_

Ginny brushed the dust off the cover of the book, revealing the title, _"The History and Tribulations of Imminisus Mortuous"._

"You're brilliant, Ginny!" Harry praised, placing the palm of his hand under the book to steady the fragile binding, before helping her flip open to the first page. There was a large drawing, mixed with what looked like potion ingredients and a long description of what exactly the potion might have been used for. 

Both Harry and Ginny took in the words on the page. With a sharp inhale of breath, they both looked at each other in bewilderment. 

"Oh my God."

* * *

“Out of all of the scenarios I feel like I could’ve pictured us admitting our feelings, being confined in an isolation pod together wasn't one of them.”

Ron chuckled at Hermione's honesty. “How long do you think it could’ve been? If we hadn’t ended up here...how long until we would’ve actually gotten our shite together and admitted our feelings?”

_Feelings._ The butterflies fluttered about Hermione's stomach at the word. "However long it would’ve taken you to muck up the courage to talk to me.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “ _Me?_ You could’ve just as easily said something to, y’know!”

“I thought I _did._ Remember?” Hermione shook her head, obviously referring to her less than obvious invitation to Slughorn’s party. 

“Well, that’s our first problem,” Ron guffawed, “It would’ve likely taken us ages to get anywhere remotely close to where we are now.”

Hermione let out a loud giggle, throwing her head back. Ron admiringly gazed over at her. “You’re beautiful.”

Her laughter seized and her complexion grew serious. "You really think so, don't you?" She tucked a curl behind her hair, suddenly flushed with the notion that Ron Weasley, her best friend, is _here_ and openly telling her everything she had ever wanted to hear. 

"I _know_ so." 

Ron's eyes were scanning her body hungrily. Hermione gasped, inhaling a sharp breath from the heat of Ron's gaze. As she inhaled, another slight jolt of pain surged through her chest. Hermione instinctively rubbed the spot just around her collarbone, causing Ron to take notice immediately. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Hermione shook her head and waved him off. "Just starting to feel a bit strained from sitting on the floor like this all the time."

Ron nodded slowly, but didn't look entirely convinced. He gestured his head over towards the door. "You don't think they're watching us, do you? Listening in on our conversations?" 

“So what if they were?” Hermione challenged back, feeling suddenly like she couldn’t care less. Ron grinned smugly, clearly liking her defiant attitude. 

He laughed out loud. "I would think they'd have more important things to do than listen in on some randy teenagers."

Hermione blushed at the implication of his words. They hadn't really broached the topic of sex yet, or really _anything_ beyond just kissing, but apparently they were about to. "Speak for yourself."

"Oi, come off it, Hermione. You know you don't wanna resist me." He sent her a dazzling smile that made her feel weak. 

Hermione smirked. "I've resisted you for six years now, Ronald, I'm pretty sure I can handle myself." Although in her mind she was definitely thinking about how if the barrier was released right here, right now, she would waste no time before jumping straight into his arms. 

Hermione bit her lip and attempted to turn her attention to the book she just laid out in her hands. 

Ron groaned loudly. " _Hermione_ , you can't keep doing that."

"Doing _what?"_ She exasperatedly asked. 

"You can't keep biting your lip like that...it's driving me bloody mental." She was amused at the fact that Ron was so clearly and outwardly expressing the inner thoughts he had in his head. 

"Oh…" Hermione kinked an eyebrow, getting a thrill out of toying with him, "You mean, like _this_?" She repeated the action and watched Ron's eyes grow dark. 

"You're asking for it," he warned.

"What are you going to do about it?" Hermione shocked herself with how daring she was being, but she supposed it had something to do with there being a clear barrier that separated their bodies. She was certain she would be far too nervous to ask that question if he could close the distance fully between them. 

Ron growled and got on his hands and knees to crawl over to the divider so that he could be as close to her as possible. _Oh fuck._ "For starters, if there wasn't this _thing_ between us, I'd pull you close and give you a good snog."

Hermione positively determined that her knickers were already soaked with arousal. _Merlin._ Hearing Ron Weasley talk dirty to her was...even sexier than some of her wildest dreams. She scooted her bum slowly along the floor, Ron's gaze burning lustfully through her eyes, until one side of her body was completely pressed up against the glass. Only a thin barrier separated their bodies from touching and Hermione ached for her wand so that she could zap it away. 

"Tell me more…" She moaned breathlessly shifting her skirt a bit so that it rose up, barely covering her thighs. 

" _Bloody hell..._ " Yeah, he definitely noticed what she was doing, his eyes now examining her bare thigh. Hermione experimented by lifting her skirt just a few inches more, now giving Ron a pleasant view of the outer lining of her knickers. Ron let out a choked gasp, his eyes bulging out as he stared at her undergarments. He kept his legs fully locked against his chest, likely concealing the erection that was forming down below. " _Hermione…"_ He croaked. 

Hermione continued to hook a finger underneath the outer lining of her skirt, slowly bringing it up higher and higher...

“Wait. Stop, stop.” 

Hermione quickly lowered her skirt back down, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. “What? I thought-”

“I _do._ Fuck, you don’t know how much. But...I wanna do it right. Not like this. Not with this _thing_ between us," he gestured between their bodies, while simultaneously raking a hand roughly through his hair in frustration, "I wanna be able to touch you properly.”

Hermione gulped. "Do you - do you really want me? In _t_ _hat_ way?" She knew she wasn't being specific _at all_ , which was quite uncommon for her, but she wasn't sure how much she could say without dissolving into a heap of mortification. 

His face shifted then, a more serious expression flashing across it. "I want you so bad. It's killing me to not have you in my arms right now. To know the things we do to each other...god, I just wanna fucking kiss you." 

Yes, she was done for. "Oh, _Ron_ , you have _no_ idea." 

"We can't go back after this, you know that right? It's you and me." Her stomach fluttered slightly. It was a very _Ron_ statement.

"Does that mean...are you asking…" Hermione hinted around her words, hoping and praying that Ron understood what she was trying to ask. 

"Am I asking what?” Ron inquired, looking confused. 

Hermione exhaled in slight irritation, deciding to table that conversation for another time. "I can't believe we spent so much time trying to hide our feelings, thinking the other didn't feel the same way, and now when we are finally ready to admit them, we can't even touch," Hermione laughed bitterly. 

"It's rather cruel, isn't it?" Ron replied incredulously. His eyes traveled down her bare arm and his body stiffened. "Hermione," Ron stared blankly at her. 

"Hmm?" Hermione responded, a content smile still on her face. 

"What's that on your arm?" 

Hermione opened her eyes and looked down. There was a deep red rash, extending approximately five inches wide along her arm. Her heart constricted, the dull, throbbing pain her chest now resurfacing for a third time that day. " _Oh…"_

"How long has that been there?" She could hear the panic laced in his voice. 

"I-I don't know, I honestly didn't even notice it…" _I was a little preoccupied._

"We need to get Madam Pomfrey in here. Now."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Happy Friday, all! This chapter is a bit shorter, but necessary for setting up what's to come. Thanks so much for your reads and reviews, much love to you all :) Happy reading!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Hermione was still in disbelief from the sudden change in events. Just moments ago, she had felt so _elated_ to hear Ron admit, "It's you and me." 

And now...well, she was sure she was about to vomit from the sheer emotion she was overcome with. 

Tears pricked her eyes and she shook her head while blinking quickly to hide them. "It's probably nothing…" She attempted to alleviate the situation, although not very convincingly. "I mean, well it _is_ something but it doesn't mean it has anything to do with the potion. It could just be an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients in the antibiotic they're giving us."

"Like hell," Ron muttered darkly before banging on the glass wall. "Help! Someone, please!"

" _Ron,"_ Hermione hissed, "As you so eloquently put it yesterday, no need to wake the whole bloody castle."

"It's not even noon yet, Hermione. Everyone is already awake," he retorted and that shut her up fast. 

Moments later, Madam Pomfrey rushed into the room, pushing a large cart full of potions and other necessary ointments. "What is it? What happened?" She inquired breathlessly. 

"Show her, Hermione," Ron ordered and she wanted to roll her eyes at his demanding tone. 

Hermione walked forward and held open her arm, observing Madam Pomfrey closely as her eyes scrutinized the open wound stretching across her skin. "Oh dear…" 

Madam Pomfrey moved hastily, bottles on her tray clinking together as she searched for a particular remedy. She returned to the glass, tilting her wand up as a single bottle floated through the barrier just before landing gracefully on the ground. “Miss Granger, here is some dittany. I am going to need you to rub this on your wound in slow, circular motions,” Madame Pomfrey instructed. 

Hermione retrieved the bottle from the floor and began to apply the cool liquid to her skin. She flinched as her finger made contact with the splattering of red bumps. 

“Does it hurt?” Ron asked with concern.

“No,” Hermione immediately replied. _That’s a lie._ While the rash wasn’t necessarily painful, it was throbbing and so itchy to the point that she was trying really hard not to scratch the tender spot. 

“Miss Granger,” Madame Pomfrey sent her a knowing look, “If that wound does become painful, I am going to need to know.”

Hermione sighed. “Well, I suppose...it is a _little_ itchy.” Ron frowned, his lips forming a tight, displeased line. 

“Wait a minute. Earlier, when I noticed you twitch and rub that spot on your chest...were you in pain?”

“It was just a slight jolt.” Hermione watched Ron clench and unclench his jaw several times. 

“I will go get you something else that should help take away the itching, I will be back in a jiffy,” Madam Pomfrey swiftly left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone again. 

"Are you kidding me, Hermione?" Ron muttered angrily as soon as Madam Pomfrey left the room. "You should've _told_ me that you were hurting!" 

"It really wasn't more than a _jolt_ Ron," she attempted to defend herself, "I didn't think that it mattered…" 

"Well, I would've bloody fuckin' said _something_ , that's for sure!" 

"Don't curse at me!" Hermione shouted back. Their bodies stilled in unison, eyes remaining locked and breathing heavily, although ceasing all verbal conversation.

Finally, Hermione sighed and broke the gaze, looking sheepishly down at the floor. “It really isn’t bothering me that much."

“Don’t diminish this, okay? Not for me,” Ron pleaded with her.

“I know,” she exhaled, “I’m not _trying_ to. I’m just trying to stay positive.” The rash was noticeably growing larger and her positivity was decreasing rapidly. 

“Hey,” Ron murmured softly. He was close to the glass barrier now, looking at her intently. “You’re going to be alright, yeah? They will figure it out.”

Despite Ron's reassurances, she felt tears stinging her eyes yet again and she wasn't sure she could stop the impending overflow this time. “Can we do that pretend hug thing again?” 

Ron's stern demeanor subsided and he wrapped his arms around himself, closely followed by Hermione. "Take a deep breath, yeah? Just like yesterday." 

Hermione mimicked his movements, wrapping her arms around herself so tight that she almost cut off her own circulation. 

Ron visibly noticed the tension in her body and walked forward. "I'm here, Hermione. I'm here. His soothing voice tipped her over the edge and she burst out into tears, mildly attempting but failing, to silence her sobs. 

“Please don’t cry. I can’t stand it," Ron begged, as he stepped so close to the barrier that his nose was pressed up against it. 

Hermione felt as if she aged ten years in a matter of minutes. She was in trouble now, and no matter how much she wanted Ron’s words to save her, she just didn’t know if it would be enough. 

* * *

“Oh my God.”

_The Imminisus Mortuous potion was created in the early 15th century for the sole intention to inflict harm and cause inevitable death._

_“Inevitable death?_ What does that mean?” Ginny choked out.

_The term “Imminisus” is derived from old Latin, meaning imminent or impending danger, whereas “Mortuous” can be interpreted as of or relating to the characteristic of death._

“Imminent Death,” Harry confirmed. He closed the book swiftly to prevent Ginny’s prying eyes from reading on. 

“Hey! What’re you-”

“This doesn’t apply to them. I’ve _seen_ them, Ginny. They aren’t showing any symptoms, they look perfectly fine. Don’t you think if death was _imminent_ for them, that they would have fallen ill by now?” Harry figured his words could be mistaken for denial, but he refused to believe that his best mates had any encounter with this type of despicable brew. 

“Maybe they - maybe they weren’t actually exposed to the potion like they thought? Maybe the effects are spread a _different_ way...I mean, they didn’t _drink_ the potion did they?” Ginny suggested. 

“No. Hermione said something about how the bottle cut her hand and she thought some of the potion went into her open wound.”

“See? Maybe there’s a different explanation for all of this. I think we should keep reading-”

“No,” Harry said firmly, shifting the book underneath his opposite armpit, farthest away from Ginny’s reach. 

“And why not?” Ginny crossed her arms in irritation. He could feel her trembling slightly from underneath the cloak and he fought the urge to close the slightest bit of distance between them and put his arm around her. 

“I just - I don’t think it will do us any good to think about all of this stuff. If it doesn’t apply to them, we shouldn’t worry ourselves-”

“But we don’t _know_ that it doesn’t apply to them!” Ginny’s voice level raised, causing Harry to cup a hand over her mouth. Once her shoulders sagged, releasing the tension, he lifted his hand. “ _Please_ Harry. Let’s at least look and see if there are any symptoms listed for us to watch out for.”

Harry relented, unable to resist Ginny’s pleading eyes, and gently handed the book over to her. She snatched it eagerly out of his grasp, wasting no time before flipping open to the page they left off at. 

_If exposed to Imminisus Mortuous, the following symptoms can present (in no particular order): chest pain, large rashes developing on the inflicted skin areas, bleeding from the nose, fatigue, coughing, blood clotting, eventually leading into complete organ failure._

“Well, that doesn’t sound fun,” Ginny deadpanned, eliciting a deep sigh from Harry as he shot her a warning look. “Okay, okay, keep reading.”

_In present time, there is no known cure. An antidote to the potion was not created. Although many researchers have developed treatment regimens that delay or alleviate the severity of the symptoms on a short-term basis, they have failed to find a suitable course of treatment that prevents death from occurring._

“That’s it. We’re not reading anymore,” Harry closed the book yet again, just missing Ginny’s fingers that she was only able to retreat from the book pages at the last second. 

_“Harry, please…”_

“I mean it, Gin. Let’s get out of here,” Harry didn’t want to discuss the potion further. All he wanted to do was to find an empty room, silence it, and throw the closest chair he could find and crash it furiously against the wall. 

“Fine. But we are taking the book with us!” Ginny demanded, and the heated look in her eyes revealed that the matter was not up for discussion.

“ _Fine._ But it stays locked in my trunk until or _if_ we need to use it again.”

* * *

Madam Pomfrey wasn't alone once she returned, as Healer Stein also entered the room without warning. 

"Miss Granger, may I?" The healer skipped any formalities as she gestured a hand towards Hermione's arm, looking quite distressed once she took in Hermione's disheveled appearance and tear-stained cheeks. 

Hermione stood up straight before treading her feet lightly over towards the healer, holding her arm out in a similar fashion as she did earlier with Madam Pomfrey. 

Healer Stein inspected the wound while rubbing her lips back and forth in deep concentration. "Red bumps, yellowish tint…" She murmured to herself, jotting down notes with her quill. Hermione bit her lip, anxiously awaiting for more information from the quiet healer. _Why isn't she telling me anything?_

"Miss Granger, it appears that you are developing a rash that is progressing quite similarly to what Professor Slughorn initially experienced." Hermione's heart dropped, knowing what the rash inevitably led to for the professor, who was currently lying in a hospital bed in critical condition. 

"How is Professor Slughorn? Do you have an update on his condition?" She inquired curiously. 

Healer Stein remained impassive with her facial expression. "In regards to Professor Slughorn, his body simply isn't responding to the transfusion as we had hoped it would. We are thinking timing was a contributing factor. Perhaps we waited too long to initiate that process with him. So, I am going to suggest to our team of healers that we prep you now for a transfusion to take place this evening." 

_This evening?_ All of this information was making her head spin. 

"Is Hermione going to be moved to St. Mungo's?" Ron piped in, startling Hermione. She had momentarily forgotten that he was there listening in, all too surrounded by her own thoughts. 

The healer shook her head adamantly. "That will not be possible at this point. It is too much of a risk to take her for side-along apparition or for her to use the floo system due to the level of exposure to the potion."

"So that means...the level of risk involved with this potion has increased for me?" Hermione gulped nervously. She watched Ron's eyes shift to her body, evidently concerned by her question. 

The healer addressed her by looking her squarely in the eye. "I will be completely honest with you, Miss Granger. At this point in time, we simply don't know. Although you are now presenting with symptoms on a similar course as Professor Slughorn, we have no way of knowing if the symptoms will affect your body in the same way."

Hermione hoped that her youthful age would lessen that risk. She then thought of Ron. "Is there any way we can get Ron started on some treatments too? What if he starts to show symptoms? We should get ahead of it for him too, right?" When she met Ron's gaze again, for what seemed to be the hundredth time since they were placed in the isolation pods, he appeared startled yet flattered that she had thought of him despite all of the uncertainties surrounding her own health. 

The healer's lips formed a thin line. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Miss Granger. It is not best practice to administer an unnecessary blood transfusion without reasonable cause. We will continue to monitor Mr. Weasley here and, in the event that he starts to show symptoms, we will proceed with the same course of action. Mr. Weasley, you _must_ tell us the moment you start experiencing anything out of the ordinary, understand?"

"Yes," He nodded straight away, but not before sending Hermione a pointed look that indicated that he was still frustrated with her for not disclosing her own symptoms right away. 

"Very well, now I must head out to inform the other healers on the care team regarding my decision to prep you for the procedure later this evening. I will return with a few extra hands to help assist with this process. Also…" Healer Stein glanced surreptitiously over at Ron briefly before turning her attention fully to Hermione, "your privacy is very important to us. The curtains are closed over your cot for a reason." 

Hermione blushed, but the reaction was quickly replaced by fear, now aware that Ron won't be able to see what is going on. Of course, he won't be able to be there to hold her hand. She was also not sure if she would be conscious during the transfusion. Would she even be able to talk to Ron still? What will happen to Ron once the transfusion process has started?

Following a few final questions and after Madam Pomfrey levitated in an ointment for Hermione to rub on her rash to help ease the itching, the two women left the room. 

Hermione sighed loudly, resting her body back against the barrier and sliding down until her bum hit the floor. Ron joined her, sitting as close as he could to her, already knowing that she needed the close proximity right now. 

"Hey, a transfusion is good, right? That means you'll be getting rid of all of the poisonous blood and replacing it with new blood."

Hermione tucked a tendril behind her ear and scoffed. "Yeah...I can't believe that I've been _poisoned_. Never thought I would be able to say that." 

There was a moment of silence before Ron spoke again, this time very quietly, "You know you don't have to be super brave for me, right? That it’s okay to be scared?" Her heart constricted as she viewed him resting his head against the glass, gazing determinedly over at her. 

“I think I’m more worried about what is going to happen to you,” she spoke so honestly, as she watched Ron’s eyes shift from determination to longing, making her heart ache. “I imagine that I will be out of it for a bit when they complete the procedure and I don’t want you…I don’t want you to be alone.”

“ _Hermione…_ ” He breathed out, “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be right here waiting for you when it’s all finished.”

  
  


Their eyes were locked in a heated battle, both unwilling to look away. "How is it possible that I can miss you when I can see you, _right here_ , in front of me?” Hermione spoke raspily, eyes watering for added measure. 

Ron smiled sadly, reaching a hand up to place it tentatively against the glass, indicating for Hermione to do the same. “I get it,” he simply responded. And she figured that he did. It was the cruelest sense of irony, being together wholeheartedly, _finally,_ after quite some time, and not being able to touch or hold each other. 

Their fingers lingered, a mirror image of one another.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. 
> 
> A/N: Happy Saturday, everyone! I'm a little nervous about this next chapter. Fair warning to all, this will probably be one of the most intense chapters so far in the story. I wouldn't say there are any major graphic depictions, but this story is rated M for a reason. With that, I hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you think :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

The room felt colder than ever. Hermione was laying back on her cot, a thin blanket wrapped around her stomach, her left arm exposed so that the healers could initiate the transfusion process. 

She felt a bit as if she were a goldfish in a water tank. She had so many eyes on her that it made her stomach churn uneasily, as if she didn't have enough to be nervous about with a risky procedure that wasn't guaranteed to mitigate the symptoms she was experiencing. There were now three healers in the room just on the other side of her isolation pod, huddled together as they prepared the necessary tools and wands for magical transfer of the blood over to Hermione through the glass. She figured her situation had to be unique. Out of careful precaution, only Healer Stein would be entering her pod, who was already clad in a hazard suit and mask, prepared to deliver the blood and initiate the treatment. 

Hermione craned her head to the side, finding Ron's tired eyes as he smiled at her encouragingly. She was frustrated that he was much farther away from her now and she could barely make out the freckles on his face. He was ordered to stay on his bed, not able to get too close out of privacy for Hermione. As soon as the procedure was scheduled to start, the curtains around her cot would be closed and she would be placed in a deep sleep until the transfusion process was complete. Part of her was relieved to have heard that she wouldn't be conscious during the procedure, but at the same time she was terrified to lose all control over her body. 

She faintly heard someone inform Ron that they would be starting the treatment. "I'll see you soon," Ron called out softly, and she weakly lifted her hand to offer him a small wave before the curtains were closed swiftly around her, Ron's face completely fading from view. 

"Are you ready Hermione?" Healer Stein addressed her lowly, wand in hand and transfusion line prepared. Hermione let her eyes focus on the ceiling, taking a deep breath in and out. 

"I'm ready." Her last vision before her eyelids grew heavy, preparing to close, was of Ron's deep ocean eyes sparkling back at her. 

* * *

Harry rushed towards Professor McGonagall’s office the following morning. He had just received word in the middle of Transfiguration that he was to head there straight away, but was given no other information. Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he fought the urge to find Ginny first. 

His urge was alleviated once he stepped into the room and already found Ginny sitting in a chair opposite from McGonagall at the head of her desk. McGonagall waved him over as soon as he entered through the door.

“Mr. Potter, please, come and have a seat.”

With Ginny there, he knew for certain that the matter had to be about Ron and Hermione. He was just hoping and praying that what she was about to tell them would be welcomed news. 

“I will have to make this brief,” the professor started quite curtly as she stood up, “There has been a change in Miss Granger’s condition.”

“Good or bad?” Ginny nervously questioned. 

“I’m afraid that Miss Granger is starting to show symptoms that we can attribute as resulting from exposure to the potion she was handling in Professor Slughorn’s laboratory,” McGonagall continued. _Symptoms._ Harry racked his brain to try to remember the list of symptoms that they had read about. _Rashes. Coughing. Bleeding from the nose. Organ failure._ Harry felt sick suddenly, knowing she could be experiencing any one of these symptoms. 

“What...what about Ron?” Ginny inquired. She was looking down at her hands, her face slightly covered by her long, auburn hair falling in front of her brow as her head tilted over. Harry wondered if she had tears welling up in her eyes that she was trying to hide. 

“For now, Mr. Weasley does not appear to be showing any symptoms, although we will continue to monitor him closely.”

“So what happens now?” Harry urgently asked, “What symptoms is Hermione experiencing? Is she getting treatment? Will she be okay?” 

Professor McGonagall hesitated, clearly attempting to formulate a worthy response in her head before continuing further. She slowly lowered her body down until she was seated in her chair once more, her elbows coming up to rest firmly on the desk in front of her. “I’m not sure I will have the answer to all of your questions. What I can tell you right now, is that Hermione underwent a procedure yesterday evening, a blood transfusion, and the healer staff at St. Mungo’s is quite hopeful that this procedure will help slow down any additional symptoms.”

“Slow down but not eliminate?” Ginny expressed for clarity. 

McGonagall nodded. “That is correct. I’m afraid that I don’t have much else to tell you at the moment, but I wanted you two to be aware that we are doing everything we can to help them both.”

“Whose blood did Hermione receive? Is she now at St. Mungo’s?”

“Miss Granger is still undergoing treatment in the hospital wing here. The donor blood was transferred over from St. Mungo’s.”

“And I don’t suppose we will be able to see them at all?” Harry mumbled. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask. 

Professor McGonagall smiled sadly and shook her head. “At this point, we cannot allow any other visitors. I promise to update you both if either of their conditions change again. I must stress the importance one more time of keeping this information between us.” 

Both Harry and Ginny nodded silently, showing understanding of the instructions given. “I’m sorry for the conversation to be cut short, but I must head out now. Please find your ways back to your classes,” McGonagall instructed and the two teenagers found their ways out through the doors they walked through. 

Just outside of McGonagall’s office, Ginny turned to Harry with a deep frown on her face. “So can we go get that book out of your trunk now?”

* * *

Ron barely slept overnight. As soon as Hermione's curtains were closed over her cot, Madam Pomfrey had placed a silencing charm around his pod, preventing him from hearing anything going on over in Hermione's section. It was driving him barmy, not knowing what was happening or if she was alright. He just wanted to talk to her, to hold her, to tell her everything will be alright…

A faint popping sound made him flinch, signaling that the silencing charm had been lifted. He raised his head up to find Madam Pomfrey strolling into the room, holding a tray of scones, eggs, and pumpkin juice for breakfast. 

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley. How are you feeling today?" 

Ron leaped off of his cot and moved towards the barrier. "I feel fine," he brushed off. And he really did, which as relieved as he was, he was entirely irritated that it was _Hermione's_ life that was hanging in the balance while he sat by eating scones. He would give anything to be able to trade places with her, to free her of any pain. "How is Hermione?"

Madam Pomfrey pointed over to her curtains. "She is still resting. We should be waking her shortly to assess her vitals."

"And the transfusion? Did it go well?" 

She nodded. "The procedure went accordingly. Now, it is up to Hermione's body to process the new blood."

Hermione Granger was the strongest witch he knew, that was for sure. _If anyone can pull through this, it's her._ Ron chewed slowly through his meal, watching as more healers entered the room and began whispering as they made preparations to wake Hermione from her deep sleep. He was so anxious to see her that he had barely eaten anything on his plate, which was quite unusual for him. 

Healer Stein pointed her wand at Hermione's cot and murmured a spell that he didn't recognize. "Hermione?" She called out softly a moment later, "Are you awake, Miss Granger?" 

"Y-yes," Hermione's groggy voice replied a few seconds later, Ron's heart lifting, feeling relieved just to hear her voice. 

Healer Stein waved her wand around, allowing her curtains to open, revealing Hermione laying down on her cot with her blankets wrapped around her tight. Ron could see from his position across the room that she now had a large bandage on her arm, likely the spot where the transfusion was administered. 

Hermione blinked rapidly to let her eyes adjust to the right, before they grew wide and alarmed. She snapped her head to the side and looked around, unfocused. " _Ron?_ Where's Ron?"

"I'm here, Hermione," Ron scrambled to his feet and moved closer so that she could see him better. "Relax, I'm here, I'm here." 

"Ron," she whimpered once more, reaching a hand out from underneath her blanket, stretching it towards him as if she wanted him to hold her hand. Oh, how he wished he could. 

Clearing her throat, Healer Stein stepped into the pod, mask on. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I would like to get your vitals now Miss Granger. How are you feeling this morning?" 

The healer's words distracted her as she attempted to recall the last 24 hours. "Uh...achy. My arm's a bit sore. My head hurts." 

The healer hummed in acknowledgment, writing notes on her parchment. "Yes, all very normal symptoms following a transfusion. Now let me just check on this rash…" 

Hermione outstretched her arm to allow Healer Stein a look at the red bumps along her skin that was still just as apparent, but fortunately did not seem to grow any larger since the last time she had seen it. "Okay, good...good...now for your vitals." 

After a quick body scan, the healer crinkled her eyebrows as she processed the new information. "Well, your levels are slightly more elevated this morning compared to yesterday, although that is to be expected given the procedure your body went through. I'm going to keep a close eye on your body temperature and respiration rate, which are two areas that seem to be abnormally high at the moment. I am going to see if I can get you started on some breathing treatments, I want to make sure you are receiving enough oxygen."

Ron's throat constricted as he listened in on the conversation. Did that mean Hermione was having trouble breathing?

After a final few words, Healer Stein exited the pod and returned to her team as they exchanged information briefly before retracting out of the room. 

When Ron turned to face Hermione again to say something, he noticed her eyes had already closed and he could hear her lightly snoring. He smiled slightly from how endearing it was to watch her sleep, and returned to his own cot before lying down on his back. He would wait. He would wait and when Hermione woke up he would tell her just how long much she means to him and he would be the most supportive...what exactly is he to her? _Am I now her boyfriend?_ For some reason, boyfriend and girlfriend didn't seem to be a fitting enough term to describe their complicated relationship. They were just... _Ron and Hermione._ And for now, that was good enough for him. 

* * *

When Hermione eventually woke up a few hours later, Ron was becoming increasingly concerned for her. She ended up sleeping for longer than the healers had anticipated and when Healer Stein re-checked her vitals, they appeared to be even more elevated than they had a few hours prior. The healer experimented by having Hermione breathe in and out of a bubble that was charmed around her mouth, apparently a method that was used to breathe in excess oxygen and filter the air. Ron panicked a bit when Hermione started gasping for breath a few minutes in and the oxygen treatments were immediately ceased, having determined that Hermione's body was still too weak and recovering from her procedure. 

Healer Stein helped Hermione out of bed, encouraging her to stand on her feet, but her legs wobbled as soon as her feet hit the cold ground and she instead requested to be seated on the floor, with pillow cushions behind her back to prop her up. Madam Pomfrey had brought in some soup and crackers for Hermione to nibble on, but she caught one whiff of the food and wrinkled her nose. "I don't have much of an appetite, I'm afraid." 

"Come on, Hermione," Ron gently encouraged, "You will probably feel better if you eat something." 

"Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey gave him a warning look, "Let's give Miss Granger some time. I'm sure she will eat when she is ready." 

Ron opened and closed his mouth, fighting the urge to retort, but remained quiet until Madam Pomfrey left the room again. 

As soon as the doors closed, Ron whispered over, "You're not feeling very good, are you?" 

Hermione laughed slightly, but hissed out in pain instantly, as she rubbed her sore ribs. "I think it'll just take me some time to recover from yesterday."

Ron didn't understand. He thought the procedure was supposed to be making her feel better, not _worse._

"I wish I could do something to help you," he stated sadly. It was difficult to be able to see her frail body leaning against the pillows and not be able to _do_ anything to physically comfort her.

"You _are…_ " Hermione braved a smile that barely reached the corners of her mouth, "You're _here_ , being so sweet...I'm not lonely when I'm around you." 

His heart swelled up and he leaned his head against the glass to get a better look at her. Her eyes were droopy, she looked positively exhausted. 

"Hey…" He murmured, waking her up a bit. "I think you should try to stay awake a bit, yeah?"

"Hmmm...oh yeah, I suppose," she groaned slightly as she shifted her body position so that she was sitting up straighter. "Maybe you should try to distract me." 

"There are multiple ways that I could think to do that," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively over at her, hoping to lift the mood. 

"Settle down there, Romeo," Hermione joked back weakly. 

“Who’s Romeo?”

Hermione snorted. “Nobody...it’s just a muggle expression.”

Ron shrugged his shoulders. “Alright, well, whoever this _Romeo_ bloke is, he better not be trying to steal my girl.”

“Your...girl?” Hermione parted her lips slightly. 

“Well..” Ron blushed, “Yeah.”

“I like that,” Hermione grinned happily, snuggling her blanket closer around her body. 

Ron loved seeing her smile. He was quiet for another few seconds before he couldn’t help himself, “Seriously though, who’s Romeo?” 

“Oh honestly, Ron...he’s just a fictional character from a play!” 

He wasn’t quite sure he knew what a _play_ was, but he thought it was best not to rile her up by asking that question. 

"Ron…" Hermione's eyes were now closed again, but she was still leaning close, her head barely holding up from the hard glass. Her skin was incredibly pale and her lips were pursed so tightly together that he agonized over how much pain she was actually in. 

"Yeah?" He responded right away. 

" _I love you."_ His heart shattered on the floor. _Did she just…_

The exuberant joy he felt from hearing those three little words was quickly replaced by fear. _No._ She was not allowed to tell him this _now._

"Don't do that…" he pleaded, "...don't say it like…"

Her eyes snapped open suddenly with a burst of energy, revealing the slightest hint of the familiar fire hidden behind her eyes. "Don't say it like _what_ , Ron? Like I might not survive? What do you _presume_ might happen then? As far as I can tell, it's not looking great for me." 

" _No._ You are not allowed to say those things! You are not allowed to give up!" He roared back, watching her cower just slightly as she whimpered, the tears pooling in her irises. " _Hermione…_ " Fuck, this hurt so much. He just wanted to take away her pain. 

"Tell me you love me too, Ron…" Her voice was low and quiet and she avoided his gaze now, head nodding forward, as if she were fighting sleep. 

Ron gulped, feeling the sweat building on his forehead. _Not like this. Not like this. Not like this._

_"Hermione…"_ His tortured voice cracked out. He felt like a coward, a pity fool who could only manage to repeat her name over and over again. 

Hermione coughed loudly several times, placing a hand over her mouth to conceal the secretions. When she lifted her hand, what she saw surprised them both. Small droplets of blood now caked her palm. 

Ron lost all ability to breathe in an instant, his eyes fixed on the deep red liquid. "What... _no…"_

By the time he looked back up towards Hermione, he spotted blood now leaking through one nostril. "Your nose…"

Hermione lifted a cautious hand to feel the dripping fluid, remaining completely silent, almost as if she were in shock. Ron watched in terror as her eyes met his one last time, just before they rolled inward. 

"Hermione... _Hermione…_ " He scrambled to his feet, tapping the window incessantly. But, she couldn't hear him anymore, as her body sagged and head lolled to the ground. 

" _No_...NO!" Ron shouted, banging his hands against the glass as his voice reverberated from the contained barrier. "HERMIONE! Help her, please!" 

"Mr. Weasley, what…" Madam Pomfrey paused in her stride as she saw Hermione's lifeless body crumpled up onto the floor. "Get Healer Stein, immediately!" She barked to an unfamiliar healer standing next to her. 

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted again, tears streaming down his cheeks as he remained focused on Hermione's now-closed eyes, begging her to wake up. _This is not it. This is not it._

"Mr. Weasley, I'm going to need you to calm…"

"Don't bloody tell me to calm down!" He snapped back instantly, as he fell to his knees. His entire body was shaking with the force of his own sobs. 

Healer Stein came running into the room, hastily pulling on her hazard suit before entering Hermione's pod and gently rolling Hermione onto her back to assess her. 

“Please...please let me hold her…" Ron's voice was raw from his shouting. He _needed_ her. He needed to be with her. She couldn't leave him. Not now. Not when they were just getting started. 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Weasley, but you know we can’t...it’s too much of a risk…”

“I don’t CARE! I don’t _care_ what happens to me...please, please, she needs me!” He cried out hysterically, his flattened palms against the glass turning white from the pressure. 

"I am so sorry Mr. Weasley, but this is necessary right now…" Madam Pomfrey held up her wand towards Ron, " _Tranquilmente."_

Ron's protests died out and suddenly everything went black.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. 
> 
> A/N: Happy Monday, all! Thanks so much for all of the lovely reads and reviews so far. I've really enjoyed reading all of your theories as to what might be happening. Some of you have guessed spot on or pretty close to what I have planned :) Regardless, I hope you enjoy the direction this story moves in, as there are just a few chapters left! Happy reading! 
> 
> Side note: I've recently joined Tumblr under my penname cheesyficwriter. For any of you who are also on there, come find me!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me out of reading more, you unbelievable git!" Ginny was fuming, and rightfully so, as she marched up the stairs in the common room, bypassing the girls' dormitories completely before charging ahead towards the boys' section. 

"I know, Gin, you're right. I know you're right." He followed behind her at a safe distance, watching her wearily as she threw open the door unceremoniously. 

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" He heard one of his roommates shout, but Ginny paid them no mind. 

"Which one is your trunk?" She asked impatiently. Harry silently pointed to a bed in the corner of the room and she proceeded to stride past the gawking faces of the other boys in the room until she reached his trunk. 

Harry pointed his wand at the chest to unlock it, just before Ginny hastily opened it and dug through until she found the book in question. Clutching the old, tattered book in her hands, she slammed the lid of the trunk back down with a _thud_ before making her way back towards the exit. _Blimey, she was pissed off._

"Oi, Harry, what does she have of yours?" Seamus nosily asked. 

"Bugger off," Harry mumbled, having to pick up his pace to a jog in order to keep up with Ginny's fast-moving form. 

She kept going and going and didn't stop moving until they were safely tucked away in a small corner of the common area. Harry quickly muttered a silencing charm around their area for added protection, so as not to risk other people from overhearing their conversation. 

Ginny already had the text flipped open to the bookmarked page by the time Harry had finished the charm. He pushed his chair close to her so he could look at the page over her shoulder, her eyes glaring at him in annoyance by his close proximity. 

"Let's just read!" She huffed out, her staticky hair getting caught on her robes as she snapped her head back down to scan her eyes along the words on the page.

"Ah...we left off here," Harry pointed to a paragraph sectioned off at the bottom of the page. 

_Methods that have been used but failed to eliminate the symptoms of Imminisus Mortuous include, but are not limited to, pepper-up potions, phoenix tears, bezoars, dittany, and the transfusion of blood._

"Professor McGonagall said that Hermione would be undergoing a blood transfusion, right?" Harry interrupted their reading to comment in confusion. "But, it says right here that a blood transfusion won't help her case." 

"There _has_ to be more to it that we don't know...keep reading," Ginny urged on. 

_Furthermore, if a blood transfusion by an unknown donor takes place, it can severely exacerbate the symptoms already present._

"Exacerbate?!?" Ginny exclaimed. Harry felt his stomach drop as he fought hard not to think about what Hermione could potentially already be going through since the transfusion was completed. 

"Keep reading. _"_

_There are two recorded cases in which a transfusion was administered and deemed successful, not just for delaying the symptoms, but had appeared to eliminate them entirely, essentially curing the victim. These transfusions were completed using blood from another individual who was also exposed to the potion, but whose symptoms were dormant or not yet active._

"Wait...what about Ron? McGonagall had said that he wasn't showing any effects from the potion yet, right?" Ginny inquired hopefully. 

"That was last night...assuming that nothing has changed for him since then…" Harry continued. 

"....and that he _was_ in fact exposed to the potion as suspected…" Ginny followed along. 

"He needs to be the one who helps her!" Harry finished, already scrambling to stand up out of his chair, Ginny mirroring his movements. 

"Let's go." 

* * *

Harry and Ginny raced down the corridors at lightning speed. They didn't stop running until they arrived at McGonagall's office, her facial expression a mixture of surprise and perplexment as the two students barged into her room. 

"Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, just _what_ is the meaning of all of this?" The professor admonished, placing a hand over her heart. 

"It's about Hermione," Harry spoke rapidly in between ragged breaths. "We've found some information that we think can help her." 

McGonagall peered curiously over at them as her glasses slid down towards the bridge of her nose. "And where did you find this information, may I ask?"

"Uhm…" Harry looked apprehensively over at Ginny,"...in the restricted section of the library."

Professor McGonagall crossed her arms disapproving. "Mr. Potter... _why_ is it always _you_?" 

"Fine, give me detention later!" Harry shouted in aggravation, "I don't care. But you need to listen to me now!"

"Harry…" Ginny reached out to gently touch his arm and calm him down. Ginny took over, "Professor, it's not just any blood transfusion Hermione needs. See, _look_ , right here!" She held the book in her hands open to the designated page. "It clearly states that for the transfusion to be effective, the recipient must be given blood by another witch or wizard who has also been exposed to the potion, but is not yet displaying symptoms. Which is preposterous if you ask me."

McGonagall processed the information and reached a hand out to indicate that she wanted to see the book. Holding it tight in her hands and pushing her glasses upwards, McGonagall quickly flickered her eyes across the words on the page.

Harry sighed anxiously, starting to clarify, "So she needs-"

"Mr. Weasley's blood," McGonagall interjected, clapping the book shut promptly. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, I must head to the owlery to send off a message at once. Please see yourselves back to the dormitories."

"But professor-"

"That'll be all for now. Thank you for your assistance, but please wait in your tower and I promise to update you both as soon as I can. I'm afraid time is of the essence here."

Harry and Ginny just hoped that time was on Hermione's side. 

* * *

Ron blinked his eyes open groggily, the brightness from the light in the room causing him to immediately close his eyelids again with a groan. His head was pounding and he was momentarily confused as to where he was and why. 

Then it all flooded back and he felt as if he was drowning. _Hermione. Blood. Unconscious on the floor._ He sat up on his cot swiftly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that spelled through him. His eyes flickered about the room. The sun appeared to be setting now, indicating that it must be late evening, several hours after the last thing he remembered. His gaze landed on the spot where he last saw Hermione and his heart plummeted to the floor when he realized that she was no longer there. In fact, there were no traces of blood or any signs of life _anywhere_ in the room from what he could tell. The curtains around Hermione's cot were closed and there wasn't any sound coming from her side of the room. 

“Hermione? _No no no,”_ Ron struggled to get out from under his covers, falling to his hands and knees as he crawled over to the barrier closest to Hermione’s pod. “HERMIONE!”

The doors from the infirmary opened at once, Professor McGonagall rushing in. “Shhh, Mr. Weasley, please keep your voice down.”

“Where is she, what’s happened?" Ron demanded instantly. 

Keeping a finger poised to her lips, McGonagall gestured over to the closed curtains around her cot. “She is resting and we mustn’t wake her.”

Ron felt immediate relief from knowing that she was still here and that she was, quite frankly, _alive_. "What happened, professor? How is she?" His voice was much softer and steadier this time. 

The professor hesitated. “Why don’t we wait to answer that question until Healer Stein arrives.” The wait was short-lived, as the healer came bustling into the room, parchment and quill in hand. 

“Mr. Weasley, we are pleased to see that you are up and that you look well. Now, I must run your vitals one more time just out of precaution before we fill you in on what is happening.”

Ron, keen to get this routine over with so that he could find out what the bloody hell was happening with Hermione, took two large steps forward until he met the barrier closest to the healer. Following a quick scan and a fortunately pleased response by Healer Stein that all of his levels seemed to be within normal limits still, she clasped her hands in front of her stomach before proceeding,

“Mr. Weasley, it appears that while you were exposed to the chemical, it is most fortunately, not currently running active through your bloodstream, as in the case of Miss Granger. Which now makes you a prime candidate to help her.”

Rin was intrigued by this bout of news. “How so?”

“Well, it was just discovered recently, by Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley...” Harry and Ginny? Ron got an absolute thrill from hearing his best mate and sister’s names, knowing that they were trying to help them, “...that Miss Granger doesn’t need just any blood transfusion, as we mistakenly assumed before. She needs a transfusion from someone who also had exposure to the potion, which makes this particular potion quite treacherous.”

“You mean, I…” Ron stilled as he comprehended the healer’s words. 

“Yes, Mr. Weasley. She needs _your_ blood, likely to survive.”

_She needs my blood. She needs ME._ “I’ll do it,” he stood up at once. 

Professor McGonagall exhaled tiredly, giving him a knowing look, almost as if she expected his adamant reaction. “Now Mr. Weasley, we admire your courage and your willingness to support your friend, but as you are still underage, we are legally required to get approval from your mother and father first…”

There is no _time_ for this. "Sod it, if I can save her life I’m gonna do it! And we can’t wait!”

“Your parents should be arriving by portkey any moment…” The professor continued. 

“What if she doesn’t _have_ moments?” Ron muttered irritably. 

“Mr. Weasley,” Healer Stein interjected, “I assure you that Miss Granger is resting and we are monitoring her very closely. She is stable for now.”

_Stable for now._ The healer’s comment made Ron wonder what had prompted her body to deteriorate so quickly following her first transfusion. “What happened to her, you know, before?” He questioned immediately. “Why did she collapse?”

Ron watched Healer Stein closely as she visibly gulped. “It appears that...a blood transfusion using the blood of another witch or wizard who was _not_ in fact already exposed to the same potion...has the ability to heighten and worsen the symptoms already present. We fear that our previous knowledge was incorrect and Hermione’s body was no longer immune to the other series of side effects that came along so quickly.” Ron balled up his fists in agitation, feeling terrified for Hermione, as he attempted to shake the mental images of her gazing fearfully over at him with blood dripping from her nose. 

"Ronnie! Oh Ronnie, are you okay, dear?" His mother’s shrill voice broke him out of his horrid thoughts, feeling relief that his parents had arrived so quickly. 

"I'm fine mum, but it's not up for discussion. I'm giving Hermione my blood." He figured they had already been debriefed on the situation and he didn’t want to waste any time. 

Arthur looked Ron squarely in the eye. "Now, son, are you sure-"

"She'll fucking DIE without this transfusion! Can't you see there is no other choice to make?" His outburst certainly startled the adults in the room and Ron could feel his cheeks rising in temperature from his fury. 

Molly’s voice was noticeably shaky when she spoke next, "Ronald, we know that you care for Hermione a great deal, but this is a _very_ risky procedure…" 

"I LOVE HER!" Ron roared. _I love her._ The words cascaded out of his mouth like a waterfall, his emotions moving along with the fire that raged in his heart like a current. It was so easy now. Those words that he struggled to get out before when Hermione was practically begging him to...he just needed the chance to tell her. To hold her. To _be_ with her. He was not afraid to protect her at all costs, consequences be damned. 

" _Please,”_ He implored on, once he noticed all other occupants in the room were going to remain silent, still reeling from his confession, “She's fighting death and needs this transfusion. She doesn't have a bloody choice, does she? Well neither do I. This is the _only_ option and I am doing it with or without your permission."

Despite the finality in Ron's statement, Professor McGonagall still turned to his parents, to which Ron responded by clenching his fists with renewed rage. "Molly? Arthur? I do apologize, but we are going to need your decision now." 

Ron sincerely hoped the desperation was evident on his face, given the pained expressions on their own features. His parents shared a brief, contemplative look before Molly nodded her head. "Yes...we give our permission." 

Arthur turned to Ron, his eyes shining with tears. "We're so proud of you son and we love you very much." 

Ron’s body shook with silent sobs, just before he lifted his hand up to the glass. “Thank you. _Thank you_."

* * *

There was something different about her. She felt different. Weaker perhaps, given the way her limbs were resting on the cot, but also.. lighter. A rippling sensation spread through her bones and she moaned uncomfortably from the aches in her muscles. 

_Where was she? What happened?_

"Hermione?" A familiar voice rang out.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Back again! Wow, this story is really winding down fast. I hope you are all satisfied with this chapter and what is, essentially, the end of the potion storyline in preparation for the final chapter. I am very excited for this one and I hope you are too. Happy reading! As always, thank you for the lovely reviews. Cheers!

**Isolated**

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

“Hermione?” A familiar, muffled voice rang out.

Her ears were buzzing, her eyes trying but failing to adjust to the bright, white light that surrounded her. She could vaguely make out the silhouette of a person standing over her. 

“Miss Granger? Can you hear me?” The voice was somewhat clearer this time and she recognized it to belong to Healer Stein. She squinted her eyes in an attempt to stabilize her vision, a pounding headache forming from the intensity of the lights. She figured at this point she had to be at St. Mungo’s now, as she never remembered the lights being so glaring in her isolation pod. 

“Where-where am I?” Hermione coughed out, as she made an effort to sit up, but was gently pushed back down into her mattress. 

“You mustn’t get up just yet, Miss Granger. Your body is very weak and you will need some time to garner your strength again. Here, please take a sip of water.” The healer held a goblet tentatively to her lips and tilted it upward slightly. Hermione gasped as the cool liquid hit her throat and she coughed and sputtered slightly from the sensation. “Oh, I’m sorry dear, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?” 

She groaned in response, placing a hand to her clammy forehead. She was becoming increasingly aware of her bodily functions and movements, her body aching all over. 

Healer Stein had seemingly understood the look of confusion displayed on her face, “Miss Granger, you are still in your isolation pod. What is the last thing you remember?”

Hermione rubbed her hands over her eyes as a series of flashes ran through her mind. It was Ron’s face she saw first. She was trying to comprehend the look of horror that crossed his face just before everything went black to her. “Ron...I remember Ron. _Ron_! Where is he? Where-”

“Shh...Miss Granger, it’s okay. Everything is alright.” The healer placed a comforting arm on her shoulder to soothe her, but also hold her down from her obvious effort to sit up again. “Mr. Weasley is still here.”

“I need to see him,” Hermione had tears in her eyes now, suddenly frightened and she was certain that feeling wouldn’t dissipate until she had a chance to find Ron with her own eyes. 

The healer nodded curtly, just before budging over to the side and revealing a lone figure across the room, a tuft of red hair barely visible. Hermione tried to adjust her eyes again, her blurry vision focusing on the person just behind the barrier. Once clear and focused, she met Ron’s deep blue eyes, staring in her direction. 

“Hey,” she croaked out softly, offering Ron a feeble smile.

“H-hey…” Ron choked back and her throat closed up as she viewed his tear-stricken face. He was clearly affected by what had happened to her and she reached her frail fingers out in his direction to offer a sense of comfort, only to let her hand fall back down swiftly against her side in exhaustion. 

“Don’t try to move too much, okay?” Ron advised, smiling timidly now, an action that calmed Hermione immensely. She was about to throw out a series of appreciative words, when she noticed a large bandage wrapped around Ron’s arm.

“Wait? What happened to your arm?” She only then realized that he too was laying back on his cot, staying relatively still. That was odd. Hermione knew that if Ron were perfectly fine, he would likely have his body plastered up against the glass as close as he could be to her. 

“Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley here had to undergo a surgical procedure in order to save your life.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed at the healer before flickering her eyes back over to Ron. She was sitting up now, despite the healer’s protests, “You did _what?_ ” 

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Healer Stein stepped in first. “The procedure went well, for _both_ of you, and Mr. Weasley is recovering quite nicely.”

“What kind of procedure was it?” She inquired further. 

“A blood transfusion.” _Wait, blood transfusion?_

“Miss Granger, we learned quite a large amount of information about Imminisus Mortuous and how to treat it while you were resting.” _Apparently so._ “When we completed your original blood transfusion, we used blood provided by an unknown donor. However, in light of recent discoveries, it turns out that in order for the transfusion to be successful towards eradicating all symptoms, you needed blood provided by someone else who has also been exposed to the potion, but not exhibiting symptoms.” Hermione met Ron’s gaze again and he nodded in affirmation. 

Hermione closed her eyes to process the healer’s words. Ron had to give her his blood. _Ron gave me his blood._ Her world was spinning with this news. 

“You’re welcome,” Ron stated dryly, making a weak attempt at a joke. 

“I-I don’t understand.” She still had so many questions. “Why did the first treatment not work? How did you find out what course of action to take instead?”

“We came across an additional book that provided new details on past cases and how to eliminate the symptoms in the healing process. It appears...we had made an error the first time around. The little known history regarding Imminisus Mortuous indicated that there was only one book written about how to treat it and that particular book was already in my possession. What we didn’t account for, was that there was another script out there, one that had resided on Hogwarts grounds in the restricted section of the library for...we don’t know how long. For once I can say that it is most _fortunate_ that Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter broke the rules in an effort to find this mysterious text.” 

_Harry and Ginny._ They were searching for answers, just like she knew they would. Hermione smiled softly at the thought, just before meeting Ron's eyes and knowing that he was thinking along the same lines. 

"As soon as this new information was retrieved, we gathered permission here from Mr. Weasley and his family and we had the blood transferred straight away," Healer Stein continued on, "We were even able to save an appropriate amount to use for Professor Slughorn, who is now also in recovery at St. Mungo's and seems to be healing quite well so far."

Hermione gestured her head towards Ron. “So you are still not experiencing any symptoms?”

Ron shook his head immediately and Hermione exhaled a breath she was holding. 

“Good, that’s what I was worried about before.” Ron looked at her so endearingly, she thought her heart might combust. While her body still physically ached from the trauma she was put through, she emotionally ached for the feel of Ron's arms around her, holding her tight. 

Healer Stein carried on, seemingly oblivious to the shared, significant glances between the pair. "What we are still uncertain about is whether or not Mr. Weasley here will also need a transfusion." The healer's latest revelation almost knocked Hermione over and certainly brought her back to reality. 

Hermione crinkled her eyebrows together in confusion. "You mean, it's still possible that he could contract the same symptoms?" 

"Yes, Miss Granger, it is still possible." _No. He can't fall ill now._

"When will I know for sure?" Hermione could hear the crack in Ron's voice and she knew he was nervous. 

"All evidence in the newly found script points to fourteen days. He must go fourteen days symptom-free from the time of exposure before he is considered asymptomatic and not a risk to himself or anyone else." 

"Have there been other cases like his?" Hermione eagerly asked. She was itching to get her hands on the publication, but she was sure that she would not be able to convince anyone to hand it over to her at this point. 

Healer Stein accepted all of Hermione's questions and replied promptly without wavering. "Yes, several, which I can imagine was not the intention when this potion was originally created. There is a theory though...while anyone can be exposed to the potion, symptoms _may_ only develop in those who are deemed half-blood or muggle-born."

"But - what about Professor Slughorn? Isn't he a…"

"Presumed pureblood, yes. However, it is also very common for many wizarding families who are naturally defined as purebloods to have non-magical ancestors somewhere in their family tree, which could constitute them as, in technical terms, half-bloods. We suspect this might be the case for your professor."

"But, how can we say for certain that I don't have any muggle ancestors in my family history?" Ron questioned. He seemed just as boggled by the assumed knowledge as Hermione was. 

Healer Stein's lips formed a thin line as she considered his inquiry. "We simply can't. All we know is that both Professor Slughorn and Miss Granger have shown signs and symptoms from exposure to the potion and you haven't yet."

"Well, Ron wasn't directly exposed to the potion though, correct? He wasn't there when the accident happened, but rather was inadvertently exposed later on through my touch? Would that have anything to do with it?"

"Possibly, yes."

Hermione was entirely aggravated to keep hearing the same language over and over. It's a _possibility._ We just don't _know_ yet. Let's _wait and see._ It just wasn't in her nature to not have all of the answers. She needed facts. She needed scientific evidence. She needed to be sure that Ron would be _okay._

"And if I do start to show symptoms...what happens then? How do I get a transfusion?" 

"Mr. Weasley...if you do start to develop side effects...there will be no transfusion."

Hermione felt chills run down her spine. "What do you _mean_ no transfusion for him? How does he get cured?" 

Healer Stein started to pace the floor, her body language indicating to them that there was an additional piece of information that the healer was apprehensive about discussing with them. 

"You see, there wasn't much about how to treat the symptoms once there is no viable donor that is needed for the blood transfusion. Yourself," she pointed towards Hermione, "...and Professor Slughorn will be asymptomatic in a matter of days and your blood will no longer be suitable for Mr. Weasley, as the potion would have run its course, so to speak." 

Hermione was eying Ron very closely, unable to read the ghostly expression that appeared on his face. 

"But if he doesn't experience symptoms by the time the fourteen day quarantine is complete, he won't, right? He will be fine?" _He had to be fine._

"Assuming there are no symptoms at all, yes Miss Granger. There are no recorded cases that indicate that symptoms present anytime beyond that timeline." 

_They don’t know what to do,_ Hermione had gathered in her mind. If Ron were to get sick, they weren’t quite sure how to help him. 

* * *

After Professor McGonagall had confiscated the potions book, Harry and Ginny trudged their way back towards the common area. They were silent as they moved through the halls side by side, both still reeling from the information they had discovered and from the quick disregard they were given as the professor hastily shooed them out of her office, likely going to take the knowledge to the hospital wing. 

It was absolutely killing Harry that he was still out of the loop, that despite all of his best efforts to help his best friends, he still had no idea if they were okay or what was happening. He was overwhelmed by these disturbing thoughts, so much so that he knew he wasn’t ready to go back into the common room just yet. 

Ginny yelped as Harry pulled on her hand and guided her straight into the nearest empty classroom before shutting, silencing, and locking the door for added measure. 

“Harry, what-”

Ginny was unable to finish her statement before she took in the sight of Harry leaning heavily against the back of the doorframe, his eyes clenched tightly shut, his fists balled up at his side. His feet seemed to fall out from underneath him and he slid down until his bum planted roughly on the ground, his shoulders now shaking with intense sobs that seemed to overflow without an end in sight.

“Oh, _Harry_ …” Ginny moved to kneel down in front of him, rubbing his knees soothingly as he reached out to clutch her hands in his as he wept. “It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“We don’t know that,” he cried, “I’m just so _tired_ of this fucking shit. Not knowing what’s going to happen this day, or the next day...I can’t lose them. They’re the only family I’ve got.”

Ginny now cradled Harry’s head in her hands, rubbing circles through his scalp. “They’re not the only family. You’ll always have me.”

Harry lifted his head up at her words, knowing full well that he looked like a bloody mess while this woman, this brilliant witch in front of him, was absolutely perfect. He reached a hand up to brush the side of her cheek. “Ginny…”

There was no hesitation beyond the single whispering of her name. Their lips met in a mutual embrace, both letting themselves fall into each other, finding comfort in one another’s arms. 

* * *

The next day, both Ron and Hermione were feeling energized enough to stand up out of bed and walk the length of the borders around their respective pods. While they walked, they chatted about anything and everything. Ron was incredibly skilled in distracting Hermione from the negative aspects of their situation, always finding ways to make her laugh and even at times helping her forget where they were. It was almost as if they were walking the corridors during prefect rounds, on a perfectly normal day at Hogwarts. Which, quite honestly, seemed to be few and far between. 

Ron's uplifting spirits relieved some of the tension and anxiety Hermione felt around his condition. He gave no indicator that he was developing any symptoms and the more days that passed without said symptoms, the more at ease Hermione became. 

Hermione, herself, was recuperating very well and Healer Stein seemed quite pleased with how quickly her symptoms seemed to have subsided. 

“Would you rather step in goblin piss or dragon dung?”

Hermione wrinkled her nose and swatted at the glass barrier. “Ewww, Ronald, that’s disgusting! I’m absolutely not answering that one. Offer me two different choices.”

“Sorry, ‘Mione...you’ve gotta answer the question, that’s the rule.” He was grinning madly at her, making it impossible for her to be irritated. The corners of his mouth had lifted so high, almost touching his eyes, and she thought it was absolutely brilliant to see him smile so widely. 

They were both still strolling around their individual pods as they talked, with Hermione shuffling her feet a tad more than usual as she deliberated on the two repulsive options. “ _Goblin whatever…”_ She eventually mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, goblin _what_?” Ron had a mischievous smirk plastered to his face as he pressed on. 

“You heard me! The first choice. I pick that one.”

“Which was?” 

The _nerve_ of this guy....

“ _Ron!_ I choose the goblin option.”

“The goblin dung?” He feigned ignorance making Hermione’s lip curl. 

“ _No,_ the goblin urine,” she modified the noun through gritted teeth. 

“I don’t believe _urine_ was the term used, my dear…” _My dear._ Hermione grew flustered from his incessant attempts to get her to use a swear word. 

“I’m _not_ going to cave!” Hermione huffed out, as she crossed her arms defiantly. Ron kinked an eyebrow at her in a move that swayed her off balance for a moment. She could feel her resistance caving in, but knew she could hold her own as long as they remained in their own pods. His words were decidedly less intimidating with a physical divider between them. 

Ron trudged closer to the barrier. “I think you should.”

Hermione matched his movements. “I beg to differ.”

“You’re going to say it.”

“No way.”

“Come on, ‘Mione, just admit it, solemnly _swear_ that you are up to no good…”

“I don’t use foul language, Ronald.” Both of their noses were practically touching the glass, each staring intensely at their counterpart, just waiting to seize victory. 

“Not _yet_.” 

“Not _ever._ ”

“Just one time? For _me_?” Ron batted his eyelashes in a move that weakened her knees but she would _not_ crumble. 

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No, Ron!”

His came much softer this time, huskier, and his eyes were pooling with desire. “ _Just….do….it…._ ”

_“Fuck!”_

Ron’s eyes widened just before his mouth spread into a shit-eating grin. “Hermione Granger, did you just…”

It didn’t occur to her at first that she had verbally cursed out loud. “N-no.”

“Oh yes, you did.”

“It was... _involuntary..._ I had no control over what...just...happened....” She tried but failed to explain her outburst and instead groaned in mortification as she placed her head in her hands. 

Ron snickered, “I mean my blood is _literally_ running through your veins right now. Maybe I transferred my filthy mouth over to you." 

_Ohhhh_ she was quite certain she wanted his mouth in _other_ ways but none of those fantasies were appropriate for polite conversation right about now. 

"I hear the innuendo in that statement and I don't appreciate it,” she pouted, still in disbelief that she had lost their battle of wills. 

"Oh, come on Hermione, I'm just taking the mickey,” Ron smiled gently over at her. 

"If you say so,” she retorted with only mild agitation. 

"It was hot though...hearing you talk like that," Ron murmured somewhat shyly, making Hermione bite down instinctively on her bottom lip. His eyes darkened instantly, “What did I say about biting your lip, Hermione?” 

_Oh sweet Merlin._

How much time was left in quarantine?

* * *

Three days. Only three more days until they would be released, pending a clean bill of health for the both of them. On this particular day, both Ron and Hermione found themselves discussing future plans, a topic of conversation that provided them both with hope for their future. 

“You’ll come to the Burrow this summer, right?” Ron had asked. 

“Of course,” Hermione smiled, faltering slightly as she imagined her folks, “I don’t suppose I know really how to explain all of _this_ to my parents though.” How was she going to tell them, not only did she fight through and barely survive a potions mishap, but that she also neglected to properly inform them of it? 

“Whatever you do or do not decide to tell them, I’ll be here Hermione. I’m not going anywhere.” The sincerity in his statement was evident, but in the back of Hermione’s mind she still dwelled on the unknown. _Three days. Three more days._

“Things will be different this summer,” Hermione acknowledged, causing Ron to tilt his head to the side while studying her.

“How so?”

“Well…” Hermione’s cheeks grew fairly warm as she stumbled on her words, “I just mean...well...things between us. Going home to your family, they might take _notice_ of something... _different_.”

Ron looked quite amused by Hermione’s inability to form a coherent thought, a rare occurrence. The words he spoke next rolled casually off the tip of his tongue, “Oh, you mean the fact that I get to show off my brilliant, beautiful, and fucking _amazing_ girlfriend? Yeah, I’m very much looking forward to that part.” 

Hermione gaped at him, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. _Girlfriend. Did he just say girlfriend?_ It was so natural - as if it wasn’t the first time he had ever said it in front of her. His confidence was striking and it made Hermione want to dissolve into a puddle of goo. 

“I-I am?” She hesitantly asked.

The smile that flashed across Ron’s face slowly lowered. “Only if you want to be,” he spoke quietly. 

“I want to be.” 

“Blimey!” Hermione chuckled lightly at his stupefied expression. 

_Three more days_.

* * *

On the fourteenth day of isolation, Hermione woke up in a panic when Ron appeared to be sleeping in. She had whispered harshly for him to wake up several times and he wasn’t budging, causing Hermione to yell for assistance as Madam Pomfrey, Healer Stein, and Professor McGonagall all rushed in. 

“Miss Granger, what is it?” Ron was stirring now, having finally woken from Hermione’s screams. 

“Whutisit? What’s the matter?” He grumbled while rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

“ _Ron....”_ Hermione rushed over to the glass wall. “You weren’t waking up….I thought…”

He was much more alert now, taking in her pained features, understanding dawning on him as to why she was so frightened. “I’m okay, Hermione, really. Bloody hell, we did stay up pretty late talking, hm?”

Hermione hadn’t considered that aspect in her short list of reasons why Ron was so tired. They had gotten themselves so caught up in conversation, that it was nearly midnight before they had both succumbed to sleep.

“Normally we highly discourage students from staying up after curfew hours,” McGonagall eyed them closely, “However we will let this one slide. How are you feeling today, Mr. Weasley?”

“Same as yesterday and the day before that...and the day before that…” Ron’s sarcasm was meant to be light-hearted, but he received nothing more back from the four women staring at him in the room. “Nevermind then. Really though, nothing’s changed for me. Honestly.” 

Healer Stein stepped forward, “Well, let’s take a look at your vitals to confirm, shall we?” 

Ron followed the standard procedure and, in less than a minute, the healer was beaming back at both him and Hermione. “Excellent health, both of you. All levels seem to be stable. Two weeks ago, I found several traces of the potion effects within both of your systems, all of which have disappeared. This is quite wonderful news.”

Hermione breathed out a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her heart as she cried out of happiness. After all they had gone through...was it _really_ this easy? Would Ron be able to walk out of here without ever having experienced any side effects from his inadvertent exposure? For once, it appeared that the Gods were finally on their sides. 

Professor McGonagall was proudly beaming. “Today is the day, then.”

Hermione and Ron exchanged furtive glances. 

“You mean we can…”

“We will be allowed to…”

McGonagall sent them both a knowing smile. “Yes.”

Hermione cupped a hand over her mouth, the tips of her fingers trembling from excitement. Ron, she could see now, was practically bouncing up and down over in his pod. 

“Healers, any additional assessments to be made before we release these two _very anxious_ students?” McGonagall inquired with a twinkle in her eye. 

After murmuring a few pleasantries and final statements, they allowed Ron and Hermione some time to tidy up their belongings, change clothing, and prepare for release. Both healers exited the room at that point, leaving the room for just McGonagall and the pair remaining. 

"Are you both ready?" Professor McGonagall looked between the two students curiously, wand at the ready. _Holy shit it is happening now._

They nodded in unison, eyes locked solely on their other companion. Hermione could feel her palms sweating, never more nervous than this moment. It was here, it was time, and she was _finally_ going to be able to actually snog her _boyfriend_ for the first time. 

"Very well.” Professor McGonagall murmured a counter spell and in a short flash, the clear barrier between them completely vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! I hope you all understand my decision for not moving forward with a "Ron is now ill" storyline. Although I debated back and forth, I felt like it was much more fitting to leave Ron as the hero he was - his place in the isolation pod was necessary in order to save Hermione's life. Honestly, I feel like these two have been through enough already, don't you? Let's get these two lovebirds together :) Final chapter coming soon! Thanks again for reading!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Well, here we are! The final chapter of Isolated. I wanted to express my heartful THANK YOU to all who have read and reviewed the story so far. I have truly enjoyed sharing this adventure with you all. 
> 
> Slight warning: This chapter may blur the lines between an M and E rating for sexually-explicit content. After all, Ron and Hermione are VERY happy to be together after a couple of weeks in isolation :)

**Isolated**

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

The room fell into silence immediately following the swishing of McGonagall’s wand. The glass barrier had disappeared, Ron now in Hermione's vision clearer than ever. He was looking at her with his lips parted slightly and she spotted his chest visibly moving up and down rapidly. 

Hermione breathed heavily as they both stood there unmoving, as if they were frozen in time and meant to savor this moment of relief, relief that they could finally, _truly_ be together. A beat later, Ron appeared to have cracked through the ice and his feet started to move at a pace that she found her own feet attempting to match. He was here and he was moving closer and closer until....her face collided with his chest as he engulfed her within his arms tightly. She let out a short cry as she buried her face in his neck, her hands coming up to latch around his middle. Hermione could feel wet tears dripping onto her robes as Ron's body shook with silent sobs. 

"I'll give you two a few minutes... _only_ a few minutes," McGonagall uttered quickly, eyeing them closely before turning and shutting the door behind her. Neither student made any move to indicate that they had heard her, completely absorbed in each other’s embrace. 

"You're _here_ ," Hermione exhaled in disbelief, snuggling into his body closer. She could feel the muscles constricting underneath his skin and she could barely restrain herself from grazing her hands all over his body. 

"I don't think I can ever let you go," Ron croaked out in reply, the grip around her waist tightening. 

Slowly, wordlessly, Hermione lifted her head off of Ron's shoulders to peer up into his tear-streaked face. His blue eyes looked more prominent than she had ever noticed before and she was positive that he was staring at her with complete adoration. 

" _I love you,"_ he murmured without hesitation. "I love you so much and I'm so _so_ fucking sorry I didn't tell you before. I was a buggering idiot."

Hermione managed to weep out a simple, "I love you too, Ron. _So much."_ She watched as his eyes dazzled back at her, his gaze falling intensely on her lips. 

She sucked in an anticipatory breath, quite certain that her soul had completely detached from her body, until the sensation of his lips upon hers for the first time brought her back. His lips felt like velvet from the softness and he tasted faintly of spearmint, presumably from the traces of toothpaste around his mouth from his freshly brushed teeth. As Ron’s lips moved over hers, she marveled at how _normal_ and completely _right_ it felt to be kissing him. And just as she was beginning to lose all sense of control, the kiss ended much too soon, with Ron pulling his head back to study her face in awe. 

"Bloody hell."

A soft giggle escaped her mouth, her cheeks now flushed a tickled pink. It was the most appropriate Ron reaction she could've imagined and she felt oddly flattered. “So I take it that was an acceptable first kiss?”

“ _Hermione…_ ” Ron murmured as he brushed his thumb lightly across her forehead, trailing down to her cheek. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her cheek fall into the palm of his hand. When her eyes fluttered open once more, she found the same glazed look on Ron’s face. He said nothing more, however the gleam in his eyes made her stand up straighter, a warmth spreading through her veins. 

They silently communicated with their eyes, both internally battling who would make the next move. With one uncontrollable urge, Hermione allowed her teeth to sink into her bottom lip, in a clearly calculative move that had Ron growling. An instantaneous charge erupted between them and it was seconds later before their lips were fused together again in a frenzied embrace, battling each other with fevered passion. Hermione gripped the front of Ron's robes and he groaned as she pushed their bodies closer together. She barely comprehended that their feet were now moving, as he led her towards the barrier of the room, stopping as her back roughly hit the wall behind her. Ron's hands traveled up to cup her face as his tongue entered her mouth eagerly. 

" _Ron,_ " Hermione moaned, gasping for air as he peppered kisses down her cheek and neck and back up to occupy her lips once again. She tugged on his school robes for leverage, bringing his head down closer to meet her at her height. Hermione was now efficiently trapped between the heat of his body and the wall, her hips jerking upward to grind aggressively against his center. Ron let out a low, guttural moan from her movements and she gasped as his own hands traveled lower and lower until they had just managed to cup around her bum... 

The door loudly opened without warning and they jumped immediately apart, panting, hairs sticking up in all places. Ron moved an appropriate distance away from Hermione, yet maintained a firm grip on her hand. 

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, raising her eyebrows. "I think it's time we get you both into the hospital wing for a quick check-up before returning to your dormitories.” 

Both Ron and Hermione nodded, faces flushed with the heat of their recent encounter. Neither managed to look the other in the eye, yet their feet were moving to follow McGonagall into the adjoining room, where Madam Pomfrey awaited them with bright smiles.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley! Might I say it is an absolute pleasure to see you both up and about. Let’s get your vitals checked, shall we?” 

While Madam Pomfrey gestured towards two beds side by side, Hermione reluctantly let go of Ron’s hand so that she could find a seat on top of her own, but not before adjusting her body so that she was sitting sideways on the bed, facing Ron’s. He imitated her actions and offered her a lopsided grin, to which she returned eagerly. Her perfect view of Ron’s face was briefly interrupted when Madam Pomfrey stood in front of her, essentially blocking her line of sight. 

In a mere matter of minutes, Madam Pomfrey had reviewed the vitals for them both and proudly announced that they were presenting perfectly healthy and were free to be released. Hermione watched Ron’s fingers as they anxiously tapped on the underside of his cot, his long, lanky legs swinging up and down off the ground. In a single, spontaneous move, Hermione lifted her own legs to meet his swing, her foot tapping his briefly. They both chuckled, unaware that the two adults were watching them with amused glances. 

Professor McGonagall had to clear her throat for a second time before the two students sheepishly broke their gazes, cheeks flushing red from getting caught canoodling. 

“Before you two leave, there is one more person who would like to give his regards,” Professor McGonagall stated, just before hurrying towards the doors to let someone in. Ron and Hermione exchanged curious glances prior to the mysterious person in question appearing. 

“There they are!” 

Hermione’s eyes bulged out. “Professor Slughorn!”

Slughorn’s eyes lit up as he trudged his way over to the pair, clasping his hands together with joy. “Miss Granger! I am most relieved that you are alright.”

“Same to you, Professor,” she responded kindly, to which he returned with a radiant smile before moving his attention over towards Ron.

“And you...I cannot thank you enough, Ralph, for saving my life!” 

Ron’s face faltered as the professor failed, yet again, to get his name right. “Actually it’s...well...nevermind,” he eventually sighed and shook Slughorn’s hand, figuring he didn’t much care anymore whether or not the professor knew his name. Hermione shook her head at Slughorn’s backside, to which Ron responded by giving her a quick wink, making her wish that they were anywhere but there right now, surrounded by a bunch of teachers. 

‘It’s Ron, actually,” Hermione couldn’t help but intervene. The professor looked over at her, startled. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“His name. It’s not Ralph. It’s Ron Weasley. And you’re right to be thanking him, as I need to be as well. He’s a hero in my book.” Hermione had hoped deeply that the pride in her eyes shone through. She was thrilled by Ron’s reaction, which seemed to be a mixture of surprise and admiration. 

“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry, my boy. _Ron._ What an honor it is to know you,” The professor bowed his head in response. 

“Thank you, sir,” Ron nodded gratefully, just before returning his eyes back to Hermione with a chastising grin. She returned his wink from earlier, making him raise his eyebrows impressively. 

She had never been prouder of the boy, the _man,_ sitting in front of her. 

* * *

The walk through the castle was slow and, most unfortunately, Professor McGonagall detected the need to escort the two all the way back to their house. Hermione couldn’t help but think this had something to do with the _very_ obvious affection they had displayed in front of her after being released from the isolation pods. 

Ron and Hermione parted ways with McGonagall as they entered the Gryffindor common room, arm in arm, watching as several heads flew in their direction.

"RON!"

"HERMIONE!"

THEY'RE BACK!" 

Enthusiastic shouts rang out through the crowd as Ron gave Hermione a reassuring squeeze on her waist in preparation for the impending ambush. 

"Excuse me, let me through!" Harry shouted, barreling through the crowd as quickly as he could. Hermione didn’t miss the look of relief that flashed across Harry’s eyes, Ginny’s too, as she trailed just slightly behind him. 

"Harry!" Hermione sighed contentedly as Harry wrapped his arms tightly around her. She noticed Ginny find Ron first, and she could tell that Ginny was weeping silently as Ron gently patted her head to comfort her. 

"Hermione! You're alright!" 

"I'm fine" She breathed out. "We're fine." 

Harry released his hold on Hermione to turn towards Ron. "Hey, mate."

Ron grinned back, "Hey, mate." The boys embraced in a brotherly hug that made Hermione smile fondly. 

More and more people crowded around to greet them, full of questions as to their whereabouts for the past couple of weeks. They left their situation quite vague, only briefly commenting on how they were in isolation for a couple of weeks, but were now fine and would be willing to explain more later. Hermione lost Ron's hand through the flood of people that rushed towards them and found herself encompassed in hugs all around. 

Finally, she caught Ron's eye and he gestured towards the staircase, as they managed to extract themselves from classmates and find each other once more at the bottom of the steps. "I think I'll head up to rest for a bit," Hermione commented shakily, feeling weak on her feet from the excitement of the day.

Ginny held out her hand, "I'll walk you up."

Hermione offered Ginny a grateful smile and took her hand to start up the stairs. She only made it a few steps until she felt Ron's hand wrap around her elbow and tug her back gently until she landed on the bottom step, meeting Ron at eye level. 

He stared determinedly into her irises briefly before cupping her face and kissing her full on the mouth. Hermione barely heard the gasps and whispers around her, letting herself fall into Ron's embrace. She responded with renewed enthusiasm as she tangled her fingers through his red locks. 

They broke apart, breathing raggedly, as Ron let his forehead rest against hers. "Get some rest, yeah?" He whispered softly. 

"Okay...you too," she replied quietly, feeling so many conflicting emotions over having to part from the man she had spent every waking minute of the last two weeks with. 

Ron leaned forward to give her one last peck on the lips, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. He sneakily pressed an unknown piece of parchment into her palm that Hermione closed her fists around to conceal from any prying eyes, just before she turned and followed Ginny up the stairs. 

Ron kept his gaze on Hermione until she was no longer visible and then shifted his head to look over at Harry, who was gawking at him with an incredulous look on his face. 

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked in amazement. 

Ron just shrugged with a sly grin on his face. "Oi, you know what you saw, Harry."

"I know _that_...but _how?"_

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well...we had a lot of free time with just us."

"...and?"

"...and we managed to sort ourselves out, I guess," Ron mumbled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. 

"I'll say," Harry beamed widely before clapping him on the back. "Really mate, that's great. Just...keep the snogging to a minimum around me, got it?" 

Ron shoved him lightly and chuckled. _Oh there would be snogging._ And now that Ron officially had the brilliant witch of his dreams, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to control himself around other people. 

* * *

Hermione fell into her four-post bed with a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the last few weeks lift from her shoulders. 

"Hermione…" Ginny tentatively started as she sat down on the bed across from Hermione's. _Here come the questions._ "You just kissed my brother."

Hermione bit her lip in an attempt to contain her smile. "I did." 

“Why do I feel like that wasn’t the _first_ time you kissed him?”

“Well...technically, it wasn’t.”

“And just when did you have time for _that_?” Ginny smirked, “I thought you weren’t even isolated in the same pod?” 

“Well...we weren’t. But we _did_ have a few moments to ourselves first after we were released.”

Ginny chuckled and shook her head, “If we’d have known that placing you two in isolation together would be the trick to sorting out your feelings, Harry and I would’ve locked you both together in a broom closet ages ago.” Hermione rolled her eyes at the dramatics. With one final teasing smile, Ginny made a move to give Hermione some privacy. 

Once Ginny had bounded away, Hermione unfolded the piece of paper that Ron slipped into her hand just before she headed up to the girls' dorms. 

_Meet me downstairs in the common room tonight after everyone has gone to bed. I'll nick Harry's invisibility cloak._

* * *

Hermione felt her whole body trembling as she made her way down the staircase just before midnight. She figured it was absolutely ridiculous of her to feel nervous about spending alone time with Ron, considering she had just emerged from two weeks in an isolation pod with him. But she was. She was nervous and thrilled and anxious all at once. Their first kiss was explosive - she was certain that it would've led to quite a bit more if McGonagall hadn't interrupted their heavy snogging in the infirmary.

She rounded the final corner of the winding steps as the common room came into view, only to find Ron leaning against the wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, wearing one of his signature Weasley Christmas sweaters. Blimey, he looked deliciously handsome, the way his hair was swept over his brow, his freckles illuminating in the glow of the fire that crackled softly in the background. The light in the room made his blue eyes shine brightly and she noticed an added sparkle come alive as he spotted her making her way down. 

"Hi, love. I'm glad you came," he smiled at her softly, sending her heart into overdrive. _Love._ She decided she rather enjoyed that nickname.

He reached out a hand and she took it gently, relishing the feel of his skin against her skin. She still couldn't get enough of the sensation, her body having ached for so long for his touch. Hermione placed her other hand on his cheek and leaned in to capture his lips with hers, unable to resist the urge to snog him senseless. Ron moaned eagerly into her mouth, inverting their positions so that her back was pressed up against the wall as he pushed his body firmly into her middle. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue to plunge inside, craving his taste. They snogged heated for several minutes, panting and grinding in unison. Simply put, they weren't able to keep their bloody hands off of each other. 

Eventually Ron pulled regretfully away, seemingly having returned to his senses, knowing that snogging so intimately in public, past curfew where anybody could find them, was likely not the wisest choice. "Come on, I want to take you somewhere. Do you trust me?" He whispered so softly that she shivered. 

"Always."

With a final grin, Ron grabbed her hand and unfolded the invisibility cloak he had draped across a nearby chair. With a quick flourish of his arms, he wrapped the cloak over their heads and pulled her body close to him, to Hermione's pleasure, to ensure that they were both completely covered. 

"Let's go."

* * *

Hermione could barely contain her giddy composure as Ron guided her through the castle in the darkness, the only light coming faintly from the tip of his wand. Once they had reached the seventh floor, she had an inkling as to where he was taking her. 

He slowed to a stop directly in front of the familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, turning to face the blank wall on the opposite side. Holding Hermione steady, he walked the length of the wall back and forth three times, concentrating hard. Hermione could only imagine what he was thinking about and her obviously impure thoughts set her insides on fire. 

The wall split apart with a solid crack, with Ron letting out a sigh of relief that his method worked. In no time, Ron was pulling her through the gap, both still concealed firmly underneath the cloak. He waited until the walls were closing behind him, before he removed the cloak and laughed as Hermione’s hair curled up in random places from the static of the cloth. Ron reached a hand out to smooth down her curls, receiving a hum of appreciation from his girl. 

Using his wand, Ron lit the candles that were placed conveniently around the room, as the large, open space seemingly transformed into a replica of the Gryffindor common room. A brightly-colored sofa sat in the middle of the room, directly opposite a fireplace that roared to life with a single flick of Ron’s wand. 

“A bit chilly in here, isn’t it?” Ron commented. 

_For now,_ Hermione thought to herself, but nevertheless rubbed the sides of her arms as she moved to sit down on the decently-sized sofa. Ron followed her lead and took a seat next to her. Hermione took the opportunity to curl her legs up underneath her bum, feeling satisfied with her comfortable position on the couch before snuggling her body into Ron’s. Ron peered down at her with mild surprise, nevertheless lifted an arm to allow her to burrow even further into his chest and maneuvered his arm to rest on her opposite shoulder. They sat contentedly in each other’s arms for several minutes, listening to the sizzling fire. Hermione let her eyes flutter close with a sense of peace, wanting to savor the moment for as long as she could, before asking the question that was weighing heavily on her mind. 

"I know we said lots of things when we were, you know, in isolation and…" Hermione watched Ron closely as he tilted his head to the side, waiting for her to finish her thought, "...and I know I was a bit emotional over, well, almost _dying_ …"

"But you _didn't,"_ Ron reminded, as he gently reached over to take one of her hands in his and squeezed it reassuringly. 

"I didn't, thanks to you," Hermione smiled and returned his squeeze, "But, I'm just trying to say that I would understand if you...if you were just saying all of those words to make me feel better about almost…" She knew she wasn't speaking very eloquently, but somehow she felt as if he understood. 

"I meant every word." 

"You don't have to-"

" _I meant every word,"_ Ron repeated earnestly and reached over this time to stroke her hair softly and lovingly. Hermione lifted her head off of Ron’s chest to gauge the expression on his face. He displayed unwavering confidence, and that confidence provided Hermione with all of the security that she needed. 

“I don’t regret a single thing, you know,” Ron continued. “In fact, I’m glad that I touched your hand that day in the library. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been there in the pod to protect you.” Hermione wasn’t sure how it was even still possible for her heart to continue to expand with love for the man, her best friend, that she has fancied for years. 

Hermione let out a small whimper as she let her body fold closer to his, relishing the feel of his hand intertwined within her bushy curls. For so long, _for so long,_ she was forced to live with only the idea of Ron touching her in this way and she was now discovering that reality was so much better. 

"Ron," she whispered, closing her eyes as his hands started traveling closer to her skin, softly caressing her neck and cheek. 

"Mhm?" He only responded, quite distracted from the work of his hands. 

"Will you t-touch me like you said you would?" Hermione asked quietly. 

His hand stilled on her collarbone. " _Fuck_ , yes." 

Given his confirmation, Hermione grabbed ahold of one of Ron’s hands and slowly guided it to rest on the curve of her breast over the top of her jumper. She heard him swear under his breath as his thumb twitched over the peak of her nipple, that was now puckered prominently through the clothing material that covered its view. Ron’s eyes glazed over, and without removing the position of his hand, his body etched forward to snog her deeply. Hermione let out a tiny squeak as Ron navigated her back down into the cushion of the sofa, his body hovering over hers as he continued to ravish her with his lips. Ron paused in his explorations only briefly to peer up at her face, clearly something on his mind. 

"You know I-" Ron coughed and blushed, "I didn't just bring you here just to...you know…"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and slight disappointment. "Do you not want to?"

His eyes widened instantly, as he started to trace his fingers up and down the length of her arms. The delicate touches almost made Hermione purr out loud. " _No_ , I want to! Bloody hell...I just meant..."

“...you don’t want to rush me,” Hermione concluded, seeing right through his chivalrous attempt to remain a gentleman. “Look, Ron,” Hermione continued rather impatiently, “You don't need to be shy with me."

"Well _fuck_ why are we still talking about this?" Ron gruffly muttered, simultaneously dragging a hand roughly through his hair. 

“No idea,” Hermione murmured just before clutching desperately at his shoulders and forcing his lips back down over hers. They both moaned deeply at the contact, their limbs now a tangled heap along the length of the sofa. Ron’s hands grazed the outer lining of her pants, slipping underneath her shirt to stroke her exposed skin. Hermione whimpered from his touch and arched her back up off of the cushion, drawing a low groan from Ron as her center core pressed into his throbbing erection. Ron bit down on her lip in response and elicited a sharp gasp from Hermione. 

With a determined grunt, Hermione released the button on her bottoms and slid them down past her bum, revealing the soft cotton of her black-laced knickers. Ron broke their kiss to avert his gaze downward towards her newly exposed thighs. 

“Oh buggering _fuck_ Hermione,” Ron groaned, his head falling into her hair, while his hands voluntarily moved out from under her shirt and instead focused their attention on outlining the lace of her knickers on her hips. He huskily whispered in her ear, "I'm dying to slide my hand underneath your knickers. I'd love to feel your soft skin against my hand. To feel how wet you are for me." 

"I'm completely soaked for you, Ronald." 

" _Jesus, Hermione…_ " Ron stuck his hand underneath his trousers, likely cupping his now firm erection she noticed tinting out of his pants. 

"Touch yourself for me, Ron." She could see his hand gently start to pump up and down. 

"Hermione, I wanna see you...I wanna watch you cum." 

Hermione's lips parted and Ron's eyes roamed hungrily across her face. 

"I could…but I want it to be your hand instead..." Hermione whispered just before she redirected his hand to cup her mound through the material. She watched, pleased, as his mouth fell open. 

A series of exclamations left his tongue before he dragged his fingers experimentally along the length of her folds. 

"Take-take them off," Hermione commanded through staggered breaths. Ron obeyed at once, hooking a finger through the lining and easing the knickers down just enough to reveal her creamy flesh with small tufts of hair. 

"Wow…" 

Hermione giggled nervously, "You can, you know, move your hand a bit…"

"What?" Ron stared at her dumbfounded, "OH! Yeah, yeah, o'course…" She thought it was absolutely adorable how innocent he was, clearly fumbling with what to do with his hands, more than hesitant to move his thumb too close to the center of her wet heat. Hermione nudged him forward, inadvertently helping to plunge his finger in between her folds. 

"Shit…" Ron pulled his finger back out slowly and with a quick thrust of her hips, Hermione had seized his finger once more as it slid back even deeper into her clit. 

" _Oh,_ that feels so good," Hermione murmured in encouragement, setting the pace with her hips as Ron's fingers continued to pleasure her while his thumb rubbed the bundle of nerves that almost sent her over the edge. " _Keep going,"_ she panted out, brushing the curls off of her now sticky, sweaty forehead. 

Ron's hand pumped in and out of her tight core in rapid motions, to the point where Hermione was bucking her hips wildly and enthusiastically. 

She could feel the pressure building within and she was so close to achieving the brilliant release she had craved, by the _hand_ of Ron Weasley, for Merlin’s sake. "Oh YES!" With a final thrust, Hermione collapsed her back onto the cushions, Ron's hand pulling back out of her center slowly, completely covered in her juices. 

"Bloody hell, that was fantastic," Ron exclaimed with full transparency. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, do you have to be so crude?" 

"You love it," Ron wiggled his eyebrows. He used a quick cleansing charm on his hand before settling his body over hers again. He was still marveling over the fact that he had just made Hermione Granger cum on his hands. It was a vision he was certain would never leave his brain. 

Hermione pursed her lips in an attempt to conceal her blush, but her attempts faltered as her eyes landed on the very prominent bulge that remained visible through Ron's trousers. 

"Your turn…" she murmured in a slightly sultry voice, her hand moving to the top button of his pants. Ron's own hand covered hers, seemingly halting her destination. 

"As much as I would _thoroughly_ enjoy what you are thinking about doing right now, I think it'd be best to save that for another time," Ron bluntly stated. After viewing her dejected face, Ron quickly added, “I mean, if you want to, you know….do other stuff?”

Hermione kinked an eyebrow and nodded towards his private area. “This doesn’t count as _other stuff?_ ”

Ron blushed crimson, “No - I mean yes - but, I was just saying...if you wanted to…”

Hermione giggled watching him squirm and eventually put a hand on his arm to calm him. “It’s okay, Ron. I know what you’re trying to say. I _do._ And...I want to.”

“Yeah?” Ron asked again. 

Hermione maintained a firm grip on his arm as she looked him dead in the eye. “Shag me, Ron.” Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione beat him to it, “And _please_ don’t say bloody hell!”

Ron grinned, “Didn’t have to. You said it for me, you swearing master!” 

Hermione playfully slapped him but retorted just as quickly by sitting up so that she was now positioned on his lap, her legs wrapped around his back. The full weight of her body pressed down onto his firm erection, causing Ron to groan loudly, completely silencing his need to continue teasing her any longer. Their noses touched by the impending closeness, hot breaths melding together. 

"I might not be very good at this," Ron admitted. 

“That makes two of us.”

"But, I think it will be _perfect_ because it's with you." 

Ron’s confession had Hermione’s heart rate at an all time high. “Ronald Weasley, when did you become so mature and sensitive?”

Ron wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to let that one slide and choose not to be offended right now.”

“Probably for the best,” she nuzzled her nose against his with a smile. 

" _I love you_ , Hermione." 

Ron was looking at her how she had always hoped he would and Hermione was certain that there wasn’t a single moment in time prior to now that she would cherish as much as she would this day, this hour, this minute, this nanosecond. 

“I love you, Ron.”

Slowly, tenderly, Ron lifted the hem of Hermione’s jumper until it was removed completely from her torso, leaving her clad in her plain, white bra, that hugged the curves of her breasts in all the right places. The straps of her bra loosened around her shoulders, and with Ron feeling a bit braver than he was a few minutes ago, he allowed his hand to caress her bare skin between the swell of her breasts before moving towards the straps, winding around to her backside, managing quick work to undo the clasp. Her bra fell lightly from her body, landing on her lap in between their bodies. While Ron gaped at her fully open chest, Hermione swiftly removed his own jumper, both now on even ground with the amount of clothing that had been removed thus far. 

“You’re so fucking _gorgeous,”_ Ron hoarsely remarked. 

Hermione smashed her lips on Ron’s, relishing the feel of his bare chest now pressed up against her naked breasts. Only one more layer of clothing remained for Ron and she was determined to have that piece removed as quickly as possible. It seemed as if he read her mind, as the positions of their bodies were changing suddenly. With a firm hand pressed to her back, Ron lowered her head back down onto the sofa, freeing up his bottoms so that he could hastily unbutton his trousers and slide them roughly down over his hips, baring his boxer shorts. 

Hermione, wanting to help speed the process along, slid a finger underneath the lining of his shorts, in no time revealing the pink flesh of his hardened member. 

They were both now free of all layers of clothing, and yet Hermione felt as if she was actually more vulnerable with him back when they were admitting their feelings in the isolation pod, rather than in this moment when they were completely naked in front of each other. 

Ron reached for his wand and muttered the contraceptive charm, to which Hermione was impressed and overjoyed that he already knew. After checking and determining that the charm was completed successfully, he dropped his wand and let it clatter to the floor, readying himself over her once more. 

“You’re sure?” He made certain to ask her one final time. 

“ _Please,_ Ron. I’ve waited a long time for you,” she shyly admitted, watching his eyes flicker with desire. 

“I’m positive it can’t be as long as I’ve waited for you.”

That was all she needed to hear before she grasped the back of his neck and pulled him in for another searing kiss. Ron moaned deeply into her mouth, trying hard to focus on the bloody perfect feeling of her lips on his, while also positioning himself at her entrance below. With a shaky breath, he nudged the tip of his cock into her tentatively. From there, he inched his way deeper and deeper as her center slowly stretched to allow him to fill her completely. 

"Merlin... _fuck..._ so tight…"

Hermione winced through the painful stretching, an action that did not go unnoticed by Ron. She gripped his arm tightly to prevent him from pulling out, as she could tell he was about to do. "S-stay….yes...mmm…" Hermione panted as she squinted her eyes closed with an unreadable expression on her face. 

"Love...should I stop?” Ron questioned with concern and complete unfamiliarity as to what they were both experiencing. 

"N-no...go back a bit and in again like before…" She instructed through breathy moans. He followed her direction and his second plunge into her wet heat caused her to throw her head back with intense satisfaction. 

"Ohhhhh YES." 

"More?"

" _More_ , oh it feels good." Ron repeated the same action, slowly thrusting back into her with increased ease, thrilled by the sensation of her muscles constricting around his cock. 

"Yeah?"

"Yes, oh gods, again,” she begged, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts with an equalized rhythm. Ron was certain he would burst right then and there if Hermione kept at it like she was, moaning in his ear and grinding her hips into him as he propelled into her wetness deeper and deeper. 

In a matter of seconds later, Ron let out a final grunt, exploding inside of her. He rode out the aftershock of his orgasm before collapsing onto her body, both completely and happily spent. Ron let his head rest on Hermione’s chest as they regained control over their breathing. 

The fire continued to crackle softly in the background and they spent the next hour enveloped in each other’s warmth, both looking forward to continuously exploring this new territory of their relationship. 

“In all seriousness…” Ron raised his head to grin slyly at his girlfriend, “...when is the next time we can be isolated together?”

Hermione simply rewarded him with a sound kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thank you so much for reading. I've got a couple of other stories in the works coming soon that I'm excited to share - I'm planning to take the next week or two to try to get ahead of my writing before posting any chapters, buuuut that doesn't mean there won't be a one-shot or two popping up during that time :) until next time! Cheers!


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